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DesDownunder

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Blog Entries posted by DesDownunder

  1. DesDownunder
    My de facto partner, (that's how the Australian Government regards my relationship with my boyfriend of over 40 years) and I have been lucky enough to share our home with a number of cats. All have lived happily with us for 16 - 20 years without any real traumas, until they died. I won't go into the heart-wrenching details of the death of our beloved cats except to say that I doubt they could have been happier, whilst they lived.
    I digress for a moment to describe how we recently overcame our financial problems which threatened to see the bank foreclose on our mortgage and force us out on to the street. The best we could hope for was a nice tree in one of Adelaide's park-lands with a broadband connection.
    Anyway, to cut short the story of a year long effort of challenges with the local council and the real estate agent, the bank, thank the deity of your choice, granted us a bridging loan to subdivide our property and sell it. We were able to reduce our mortgage to a very small amount which the dear bank would allow us to repay over 18 years. We were able to keep our home on the now smaller block of land which doesn't worry us.
    As an aside to this digression, I should tell you that the Real estate agent presented us with a quote for overseeing the subdivision which I refused and organised myself saving over $7,000 in the process. Of course it meant that I had to physically go all butch and build the council's demanded carport for our car, as well as organise the concrete, fencing, tree clearance, etc.
    Our clever accountant made sure we didn't have a capital gains tax problem.
    My friends, such as they are, were all very helpful telling me, whist I am up on the carport roof (at the age of 69) to "Be careful." I was beginning to feel like one of my characters from my Doors Of Love stories.
    Finally we overcame all the council objections and the real estate agent found us a buyer for the newly created block of land.
    We took out a small extra loan so we could paint and carpet the rooms. Then the gas cooktop blew up in the kitchen, and we replaced that. The electric stove stopped working and it was cheaper to replace it than repair. I still have some tiling to do in the laundry.
    The keyboard on the computer lost the plot and I replaced that. I now have a wonderful mechanical action keyboard...I love it, no more tysop.
    So that left us with a vacancy for a cat.
    We decided that rather than get a kitten we would adopt an adult cat and thereby rescue it from the dreaded death by lethal injection. I always wonder about death by non-lethal injections.
    We searched the local used cats site, and found a lovely 4 year old black male (neutered). The owner was a girl who just graduated her engineering degree and was moving to a job in another city where her accommodation didn't allow pets.
    So we get the cat home. It had a name we didn't like, but decided that we would wait for it to show its character and that would give us a clue as to its new name. Little did we know.
    First it wouldn't come out of its cat carrier cage. It hissed, snarled and growled in no particular order. It bared its fangs and snapped at our fingers. Okay, so I patiently offered it food and sat with it, making silly cat noises of soothing and welcoming sounds. Nine hours later it exited the cage and rubbed itself against my hand and leg.
    It then proceeded to vomit on the floor.
    An anxiety attack if ever I saw one. I knew about anxiety attacks as the de facto boyfriend had one when it looked like we were going to be destitute, but thankfully he made it to the bathroom and didn't vomit on the floor.
    The next day pussycat ate and threw up, ate and threw up quite consistently, so I made an appointment with our local Vet.
    I looked at the previous owners' Vet documents and saw that the cat had been vaccinated, but no other examination had been done because of, "extreme temperament problems."
    So when the de factoed one got home I told him we were going to the vet. He told me he felt okay. He had just manage to land a full time job. We had some extra income. Lucky us, the Vet must have known and charged us $89.
    Calmly we arrived at the Vet and the cat had sat quietly in his carrier cage. Once the door was opened he sprang at the Vet sunk his claws into her and clawed the now shocked and horrified de facto one.
    The Vet decided a hairball might be part of the vomiting problem as the cat was very active and not at all underweight.
    We returned home with some cat laxative. I was already having the shits with this animal. My poor lover's hand was looking quite lacerated.
    Four weeks later, the cat is loving and sookie, and then for no reason attacks our ankles, and bites and scratches exposed skin. We are not going commando until we sort this cat out.
    We watched the videos at My Cat From Hell site (recommended) where cat behaviourist Jackson Galaxy, advises on how to handle difficult cats.
    We've done everything he suggests and the cat still summons the demons from the underworld right in the middle of his loving us. He's mental...So we have called him Psycho.
    We'll post further bulletins, if we survive.
  2. DesDownunder

    Blown Away

    By DesDownunder,

    G'day,
    Forecasts for Adelaide include gale force winds of 100 kph (64 mph) or more, and continuing intermittently for the next week.
    It's not unusual for this time of the year but I thought I should warn y'all in case you thought we were enjoying the blow job.
  3. DesDownunder
    April Fools has inspired me to write a foolish story.
    As Blue writes:
    "The Gay Prank"
    "~ Brad and Dale want to come out, though they feel a little foolish, and their parents' slip is showing. "
    Hope you all enjoy it.
    (A fool and his story are soon parted).
  4. DesDownunder
    I was reading about some of the horrors that are happening around the world...always a lovely way to pass the hours ...when it occurred to me that the religious right and their conservative cohorts are not all that friendly to LGBTQ people. But it doesn't stop with them. Various regimes are imposing anti-gay legislation in many different forms, all around the world.
    The familiar suspects, who deny the rights of LGBTQ people, can be thought of as waging a war against more than LGBTQ people. They are in fact waging a war on reason, and their arsenal is full of weapons of mass hysteria; fear, ignorance, oppression and hypocrisy, which, when accompanied, as it usually is, with myth and superstition, all in the cause of greed, avarice and dominance over all who resist, makes it, in my opinion, nothing less than a Holy War, complete with human sacrifices.
    So my wrath against organised religion raised its hand, and wrote an article.

  5. DesDownunder

    (20) Twenty

    By DesDownunder,

    Ok so I have nothing to say today (yet) other than this is the 20th entry in my blog on the 20th day of May 2007.
    How cool is that? You don't have to answer, I know it is lame.
    I just didn't think I would have so much to prattle on about.
    Future historians will wonder incredulously at the keen observation that inspired this entry I am sure.
  6. DesDownunder
    A local news magazine reported that a poetry reading group in Adelaide was having some issues with a person who wanted to read what some people regard as porn.
    Now I should explain that this poetry reading group has been around since the 1970s, but because I have been a shift worker and an avid supporter of whatever free time I have should be devoted to getting my rocks off, rather than reading poetry, I have never attended their meetings.
    However my recently awoken interest in poetry (caused by Awesome Dude) and the story itself piqued my interest, so I went to their monthly meeting last night.
    What a group of lefties. So that's where the left went. Of course there were a few representatives of the right, but in the spirit of live and let live they were heard with polite applause or giggles sniggers or even a roll of the eyes.
    The porn fellow was most uninteresting, but many thought he should be heard as they did not want to introduce thoughts of censorship into the meeting or the group itself.
    Freedom of expression and all that was protected with the usual cries of defending the rights of people to be heard. He was given the last slot of the evening to read his stuff, so people could leave if they didn't want to hear him.
    I read two of my poems published in AwesomeDude Forums and Codey's World. No one batted an eyelid, and I received a lot of applause and pats on the back for my efforts.
    I of course took the opportunity to plug AD and CW. So Dude and Codey can expect a few new visitors at the sites.
    All this brought my mind to realising how stimulating it was to read my poems and listen to others.
    There was over a 150 people at the meeting.
    I cannot begin to explain how great it was to be in room of inspiring and aspiring poets. Good bad and indifferent poems were read and all were accorded polite or enthusiastic reception.
    So Guys I recommend you find a local poet's group read your stuff, promote CW and AD if you can, and you may well find yourself inspired to write more.
    And yes there were some very cute guys there, who knows your next lover may be a poet.
  7. DesDownunder
    Setting aside (at last - sort of) the woes of my days,
    I am delighted to report that I have had my evil ways,
    With the computer software installation,
    And set it up for minimal infestation,
    By wanderers of Trojan harms
    So I am alerted with many alarms,
    To all attempts of corruption
    Of my new toy.
    I seem to have run out of rhymes,
    Because I am having the best of times.
    Whose blog is this anyway?
    Should I run away,
    Before I am found out,
    and beaten to a pulp.
    There it happened again
    No more rhyming,
    So I will abstain,
    from trying,
    Wow is this ever insane? I'll,
    Stop now before I became banal.

  8. DesDownunder
    So is it New year yet?
    I guess it must be. We have had our usual spate of arrests and murders and other various activities that the local peasants seem to think is necessary for the celebration of the Earth having completed yet another orbit around the sun.
    Some of them don't believe in that though, which makes me think of what it must mean to be so obsessed by a belief that others have to be subjected to it, beyond, in some cases, any semblance of validity.
    Such things were not foremost on my mind however when at 11.52 pm I crawled into bed, several hours ahead of my usual bedtime and looked at the man of my nightmares, I mean dreams, definitely my dreams, who was watching a DVD movie of no great worth except to act as nightmare fodder for someone else.
    "Whatcha doin'?" he asked.
    "Helping you watch the movie." I answered.
    "Oh." he replied. "I can stop it if you want."
    'If I want to what?"
    "It is hot!' he said
    "So it is," I confirmed for him.
    ****
    I believe we were thinking the same thing, that is, we had the same beliefs. At least they seemed similar.
    Some people do not seem to understand how important it is to allow other people to have beliefs that conflict with their own.
    They seem to be obsessed by some primitive neanderthal necessity to want others to think as they do.
    Well that might have been necessary when we lived in tribes or in caves. You know when our ancestors clubbed each other to death out of fear of the differences between one tribe and another; or over claims that cavemen from one cave were better than cavemen from another cave. It was a time when they could not explain things like lightning or wind or rain or fire. The Sun revolved around the Earth which was flat. You could be burned at the stake for saying you believed otherwise.
    Today on this the first day of a new year, actually it is the second because I was busy yesterday, it occurs to me that we no longer need to worry about what others believe, provided each of us does not try to club anyone else into submitting to their beliefs.
    It is not beliefs themselves that cause problems. What creates the problems is when we allow our beliefs to dictate what we do, without recourse to reason, common sense and human compassion.
    In short when my actions are the result of my beliefs, I should make sure that I do no harm to others or their right to believe what they will. I would ask only that they grant me the same courtesy.
    Now that for me, would be civilised.
    ***
    By 12.07 am New years day, the boyfriend and I had confirmed the compatibility of our beliefs by having them in a rather uncivilised way, but very full of human com-passion, for a whole year from 2007 to 2008. It was a great year even though it only lasted fifteen minutes.
    May you all have a splendid 2008 with many happy 15 minutes or longer.

  9. DesDownunder

    Feeding Desire.

    By DesDownunder,

    Have you ever noticed the seeming preoccupation French movies have with sex and food? Every time a new French movie comes into the video store, we get heaps of questions about if there is food in it? You'll notice no one asks, "Is there sex in it?" Well it's French so of course there is sex in it, seems to be taken for granted. But it's the movies with sex and food that seem to do the best business.
    Now I don't mean to single out the French, but it does seem their movies are the most likely to comply with the sex and food content, although I do think the Italians serve up a fair amount of sex with their noodles. And of course there's the gay movie Eating Out amongst others.
    That brings me to consider the seductive attributes of the texture of many foods. I mean pasta itself is just oozing with slippery morsels writhing in freshly warmed sauces as your utensil swirls them around on the plate. Haven't you ever thought of just grabbing a handful or two of the luscious noodles and rubbing them all over your prime ribs? A kind of alimental pasta.
    For starters of course there is soup du jour, soup of the day, for you uncouth hamburger munchers. What better way to seduce a lover than with a thick cream of celery soup or even potato and leek. Hmm that sounds like a guy I knew several times.
    Anyway I thought I should pass on few culinary hints to assist you all to enjoy the art of food and sex. You see there is more to seduction over a meal than just with a bottle of good wine.
    Each item on the menu should suggest the never-ending possibilities of the debauchery to follow the main course. Think of these tempting dishes.
    Standard oysters au naturel should send the appropriate signals for starters, (If you can get him to dine au naturel, you may be able to forget dinner altogether,) followed by a main course, some of which I mention here:
    Twin Hot dogs in white sauce.
    Roast stuffed chicken or chicken vol-au-vent.
    Rump steak, or T-bones, medium rare.
    Chunky meatloaf surrounded by an array of delicate baby peas, whole miniature carrots and cauliflower smothered in cheese sauce.
    If you manage to serve a desert than you can be reasonably certain that you have either failed as a seductive cook or your dinner companion is as thick as a brick. Not to worry, a double layer cream sponge covered in caramel sauce and decorated with pink icing hearts served with flaming brandy around the edge of the plate, usually sends the right signals, provided it doesn't set the house on fire instead of him.
    Coffee with a flute of French Cognac should serve to make sure that he has to stay the night. Can't have him driving home under the influence, after all you want him under your influence, or you under his. Either way one of you should be grilled lightly until done.
    Of course if you are both so hyped up you can't sleep, you should offer a relaxing massage. Now the best massage oil is sesame oil, the same sesame oil that you used to fry the rice, very sensual and edible.
    In the morning you look at him sleeping there alongside you with only an empty bottle of sesame oil between you. He awakens, he looks at you and wants more. Damn, you've used up all the lubricants you had in the house.
    But wait there is an answer. Breakfast.
    The kitchen is a source of wonders to behold, and so you cook two big bowls of fine-ground oatmeal.
    You serve them in bed and as you do so, you accidentally spill some onto his abs. Quickly you wipe the oatmeal up with your fingers noticing how very slippery freshly cooked oatmeal is...and its warm too...
    What's for lunch? Maybe the guy next door would like to help make a banana sandwich.
    (Please observe all precautions for safe eating.)

  10. DesDownunder
    I have been researching background for yet another idea for a story.
    "Why bother" I hear you ask. "Just write the story and don't worry about its authenticity."
    That's all well and good if I was writing to satisfy a fantasy of my own, without regard for historical, geographic or psychological relevance. Not that any of these have to be the determining factor for the story, but they do have to at least not be violated by invalid references.
    One of the things that stands revealed is the incomplete and often corrupt histories of mankind's past. It wouldn't be impossible to write the whole history of an entire empire's rise and fall, as a foible of someone's imagination, let alone blow it up out of proportion to be an affectation on today's world civilisation.
    An interesting collusion of semi-historical figures that amounts to a world conspiracy would not be difficult to write except for the tedious evidence that such figures rarely understood the effect of their own actions in their own time, let alone the nature of their 'legacies'.
    Distortions of time and place can also lead to imaginative settings for stories that prove just a little too unbelievable.
    Psychological traits are not all that difficult to introduce to a story, but finding the archetypes, rather than just displaying a variation of a stereotype is considerably more draining and fraught with disputations of origin.
    It is this last phrase which is of most interest. If we do not understand the nature and thus its cause can we really construct a viable statement within our stories that will resonate with our readers' life experiences?
    Of course we can write situations that are believable, entertaining, even fantastical, all of which are satisfying to read as well as write.
    Yet if we want to touch on the human element of life's experiences, if we want to conceal within our story an expose of injustice, or aberrations of commonly held untruths, let alone describe the possibilities of human goodness, there seems to be not only a confounding variety of opinions, and incomplete factual records, but also an unwillingness at large, to entertain hypotheses which run counter to popular notions. The ability to reason, to observe with objectivity seems woefully absent in the presence of our social authority which demands we believe what we are told.
    Even that statement can be misconstrued by those who want to maintain the status quo rather than explore possible alternatives, whether in our stories or our lives.
    Good literature can make us think as well as entertain us.
    As for my story? Well I will just have to see if I can live up to my own expectations.
    I doubt it, but it is fun trying and that is important too.

  11. DesDownunder

    Finding A Good Movie

    By DesDownunder,

    Ah Winter!
    Yes I have another bout of flu like symptoms. :cough, cough:
    Oh I'm sorry did I spray my nose juice all over you when I sneezed? Let me wipe it off you with this used tissue.
    Really, I am so sick of this bug.
    Another thing I am sick of is the new video rental program we had to buy for the shop. It is preferable to the others we tried, but we still have had to work out what all these extra things are, that it does. Like, tell us how much tax we need to pay and what the cash should be, and how many customers we served. Then there are all the things we want to know but it keeps in secret places for which we have to go hunting. It's like going on a date with a coy slut who knows what you want but makes you take his clothes off.
    The customers are all very patient, which is just as well.
    "Hang on a minute, will you? I have to work out how to work the new software."
    "Oh you poor dear," says the middle aged man with two screaming kids.
    "Daddy, we found a better movie. Can we change it?"
    "Are they too late?" he asks me. Too late for what, I want to ask, abortion? As far as I am concerned the brats are too early for anything worthwhile, as they run screaming from one end of the shop to the other flipping DVD cases onto the floor as they go; and I know yet again, why I never wanted children.
    "To late to change the movie they want for this one?"
    "No, that's fine," I lie with a smile.
    I enter his membership and the DVD numbers and the program wants to know what amount of money he is tendering. I just push F10 to bypass the nonsense, and the transaction is completed. They depart, hopefully to another planet.
    Down the aisle I go to pick up the DVDs the boys knocked to the floor.
    I'm down on the floor when I sense someone is standing alongside. I look up to see a woman who obviously hasn't heard that handbags with matching gloves is a pretension from another century.
    "Are you all right?" she asks.
    "Yes, thank you, just tidying up the stock," I tell her. "Can I help you?
    "I want a movie."
    Why else would she be here? It's going to be a long day.
    "I don't remember the name, but it was very good."
    Yeah, like that is a help. "Do you remember who was in it, or what the story was about?"
    "Oh yes, it had that nice young actor in it with a girl I haven't heard of before, but I heard it was good. It's about a professor in a German university during the 1930s and how he becomes a Nazi."
    "Ah yes, I know that film," I tell her, "Now let me think...Yes Good, it's Good."
    "Yes I was told it was good," she says.
    "That's what it is called, Good," I explain.
    She changes her handbag from one gloved hand to the other. "That's what I said, I was told it was good, with that nice young actor."
    "Viggo Mortensen is his name," I tell her.
    "That's him," she says with surprise, "I really like his performances."
    Good, now we have determined who turns her on, but I don't reveal that I realise this, as it might lead to her describing what she does while watching him in his movies.
    "But what is the movie called?" she inquires,
    "Good, it's called Good," I explain.
    "Yes I told you that it was good." She is somewhat abrupt in her manner, and I realise I will have to either get pleasure from telling her that the movie is beyond the powers of her intellect, or capitulate in such a way that she will release the moths guarding the money in her handbag.
    I decide we need the money, the new software was not cheap. I take the DVD off the shelf and show her the title.
    "Oh it's called, Good," she announces to the multitude.
    "How much is that?" she asks with a voice that has only disdain for the worldly matter of money.
    So I tell her the rental fee, and sure enough she opens her handbag, no moths -they must be asleep; she reaches inside and gives me her membership card and a fifty dollar note.
    A small battle ensues with the software and I give her the change. She sweeps from the store in triumph.
    "I would have smacked her upside of the head. You are very patient," says the cute young gay guy at the counter as he puts his selection of gay movies on the counter. "Are these movies good?" he asks.
    "No sir," I tell him, "Good, just went out."
    And we both burst into laughter.
  12. DesDownunder
    So I have been laid up with the flu. Was it Swine Flu? Well it wasn't all that pleasant. I still have a cough, but if it was the swine flu I least had something in common with Harry Potter actor, Rupert Grint. He seems to have got on top of it and I seem to have done the same, though I like the idea that either he or I got on top.
    As I say I still have a cough, but mainly my voice is husky; husky as in hoarse, not as in horse which if I got on top of, might mean I was in the play, Equus, which would be good except that it is too cold here for the nude scene and I wouldn't want to get the flu back. Hmm if I did that might mean I have some kind of horse flu.
    My voice being all husky might also mean I didn't have the swine flu, it might have been dog flu I caught from a husky. No that's being silly, I haven't been near a dog, except for some...no I won't go there.
    I did go to the doctor, who seemed quite surprised I was alive and walking. He listened to my lungs with his stethoscope and asked me to cough. If I could have given him one of my evil smiles I would have, but ever willing to do exactly what the cute doctor wants me to do, I began coughing and hawked up some flying phlegm which did a free fall on to the middle of his desk.
    The doctor just looked at it. "Do you need a specimen?" I asked batting my innocent blue eyes.
    "It's okay," said the doc, "I wanted a new desk, anyway."
    "You could always disinfect it," I told him.
    We both leaned over the table to inspect the 'specimen.'
    He looked at it and announced it was typical and didn't appear to be anything nasty, then he looked at me and asked if I felt okay.
    " I feel great," I said, "It looks like my throat just orgasmed on your desk."
    "Can we skip the description of your afterglow?" he asked.
    "Okay I said, anyway now it's your turn."
    "I think not," he said as he put his stethoscope away, "Come back in a fortnight and we'll see how you are."
    "That's it?" I asked, "Come back in two weeks, what if I have the horse flu?"
    "Horse flu?" he asked and I smiled to myself, I had him where I wanted him and he was going to be the recipient of my pun for the week, when he suddenly announced, "Horse flu is not like bird flu, it won't fly."
    "That's what they said about the pigs before they took off and flew," I triumphantly announced.
    "I don't have time for this," he said and handed me a script.
    "What's this for?" I asked.
    "Pain relief, " he told me, "In case you tell yourself one of your puns."
    The doc likes to get in the last word.
  13. DesDownunder
    So how do you tell if a guy is straight?
    Well there are certain tell-tale signs if you know what to look for.
    The most obvious one is to watch a guy when a girl walks by.
    If his tongue falls out of his mouth and he does an impersonation of a slobbering, St Bernard dog, with drool reaching down and catching on his shirt, then you can possibly be certain he is interested in at least one woman from a hormonal point of view.
    What if there are no woman around though? Well, there are certain little things that give straight guys away.
    Watch the way they hold the newspaper or magazine in the bus or train. They don't hold the magazine with finesse.
    The grip the pages between their thumb and index finger instead of delicately holding the edge of the page with their finger tips.
    When they sit down they will lean forward and then drop into the seat with such force that the back of the chair or seat bends out of shape.
    Speaking of shape, a straight guy will generally have no sense of his butt. He doesnt wiggle it as he walks and he drags his feet in a kind of shuffle that has parents yelling at him to lift his feet.
    He also slouches, giving you an early view of what age will do to his abdomen.
    Getting back to walking; it is really more a lurch to the left and then to the right. This can be rather charming in an apish sort of way as it indicates a gentle soul who hasn't yet learned to aggressively plod one foot after another in attempt to intimidate the hell out of all the other straight guys.
    One of the dead give aways of a straight guy is the way they incline their heads when talking. You can see this quite clearly in those men who feel they know everything (another straight trait). Also watch them driving their cars. They hold their arms out of the window at stop lights with the palm of their hand down. Their other arm is usually rubbing their nuts. When they drive off the external arm changes position to grab onto the roof of the car to make sure it doesnt lift off.
    Straight guys in cars rarely see cute guys on motorbikes and often just plough straight into them. This is different to gay guys who gently nudge the bike with their cars to let the bike rider know he is attractive in those leathers.
    Speaking of leather; then there is the belt. Straight guys wear belts; thin leather belts in trousers that have no hope of falling down. Totally useless belts.
    Wide leather belts with crazy designs and buckles are okay because they adorn the entrance to a horny Valhalla, but generally speaking most gay guys don't wear belts as they just delay the entry of the gods.
    Watch their eyes. If the iris of the eye widens as they look at you, just hand them your personal card with your cell phone number on it, or simply ask if they would like to see your new sheets on your bed. That one is not straight.
    Then again there are guys who do all these things because they think it is acting straight that will land them a gay guy for the night or weekend or even a lifetime.
    How bent is that?
  14. DesDownunder

    Rewards of Despair

    By DesDownunder,

    Okay there are several threads where I might post this op-ed with some degree of being relevant and not off topic, but Ive decided that here might be as good as anywhere. Just be warned I'm in a philosophical mood. As always, feel free to comment.
    Rewards of Despair
    © 2011
    by Desmond Rutherford
    The circumstances of one's life are often overlooked as being a significant contributing factor for creative work, and yet adverse conditions might be used to dismiss the opportunity to create. Trying to write, compose, or even live, whilst constrained by one catastrophe after another is, obviously, challenging. The uncertainty of not knowing if the bed you got out of this morning will still be yours tonight is not something that provides the most stable environment conducive to creativity. It seems that we can recognise the emptiness of our own personal apocalypse, simply through our life's circumstances.
    Sometimes it seems that no matter what we do, life goes from bad to worse, to virtually impossible. Anxiety, fear, and terror may be the consequence of real dangers or they may be anticipations, the sequels of irrational conjecture, but the effect is the same. Sadly, they give rise to anxiety that we know will lead too many people into seeking a solution that is tragic for all of us. But there is also a less desolate aspect to threatening situations, that can permit us to learn from the experience, even though it nearly incapacitates us. Suffering does give us an insight into the human condition, with all its foibles and its hopes. And it does take courage and bravery to live through anxieties, and we are brave and courageous if we dare to look horror in the eye and scream, "I want to live," as loudly as we can. Just screaming that you aren't going to take it anymore, is not enough; you must demand to live. I know it can seem impossible...I've felt despair too. I've seen the horrors in the faces of others, reflected in and lurking behind their eyes, in the dungeons of their minds. And I am humbled when I have little, and they have nothing...but their determination to go on living.
    Despair can lead to depression, and depression is restrictive, immobilising to paralysis, and yet courage can be born of desperation, inspiring us to find its truth, reality, depth and recognise that horror does not last forever, even though we may be affected for the rest of our lives, from having experienced the despair and depression. If we have ever asked why life is so full of such experiences, then we are on the brink of realising that life is those experiences, and it is our place to observe them, embrace them, use them, and make an art form of them, one that is as unique as we are; each of us.
    To live through horror, persecution and deprivation is not unknown to many peoples; indeed, LGBTQ people seem to be rather adept at learning how to survive in a hostile world. And it's not merely a matter of what we survive making us stronger, it's a matter of daring to live and love in the face of adversity; daring to shout, “Yes!” to life and living it. And then, with that innate human desire to express ourselves artistically, we feel impelled to take our discoveries, our thoughts and stories, and scratch them into the face of the Earth, so others may see them, share them, feel comforted, informed, inspired, entertained, or just so someone else knows that wonder exists, and that we can tell each other about it.
    Compassion comes in many guises, but it must be true at its core, real truth without superstitions, and the truth of reality is not always easy to handle, but is its own reward, because it demands we live life fully, in the here and now, searching for the only sane and satisfactory reason for existence...Love.
    "The job of the artist is not to succumb to despair but to find an antidote for the emptiness of existence.” - Gertrude Stein from the 2011 movie, Midnight in Paris.
  16. DesDownunder

    Serving the Enemy

    By DesDownunder,

    So we have a complaint of too little blogging. I agree we need more blogging.
    I think also, we succumb to the depressing times in which we live and no one feels like writing when they are feeling down.
    On the other hand, what better time to pen a light-hearted look at the misery that surrounds us?
    Like General Custer we are circled by promises of our doom and the arrows of outrageous misfortune to be living in these most irrational new dark ages. If we circle the wagons against the enemy we will never know what we might achieve if we invite them into our midst for coffee and donuts, instead of shooting at them.
    I've actually wondered if you could use a bevy of donuts as some kind of edible condom. Jelly or jam filling would probably be needed to keep them slippery, at least till cream was made available.
    The problem is, after you have eaten the donuts and drank the coffee, what else can you do to cement relations with those who wish to murder you and your loved ones. Hoping that they won't murder your entire family because you gave them a fried cake and a cup of coffee, might possibly be wishful thinking.
    "Donuts," chants the enemy, "Donuts, donuts, now."
    The trouble is we have little flour and coffee left.
    Poised on the mound of hopelessness,
    We look across the plain,
    Seeking in vain,
    The sign of cavalry charging,
    To our rescue,
    With more supplies,
    But they never came,
    So we mix up the last of the flour
    And make the donuts,
    Our enemies require.
    "Make with the donuts,"
    Our enemies yell,
    It seems like they have seen,
    The wisdom of safe eating,
    The donuts we supply,
    And we carefully slide them onto,
    Their upright brave young men,
    Who then consume them,
    With our help.
    For who are we,
    To complain or disagree,
    If coffee and donuts,
    Can save the day,
    Let us feast all night,
    If it will put things right,
    For in the morning,
    The troops will arrive
    And they will have more
    Coffee and flour,
    But again they scream, "Donuts, donuts."
    Alas, our flour is all gone.
    A meeting has been called
    Between their leader and ours,
    Who tries to explain,
    That more flour is on the way.
    "We don't care about that,"
    Says their chief,
    "You slide those ring-shaped cakes onto us and then help eat them, slurping over us, creating great excitement. We just want to know, when are you going to do our nuts?"
    Like all disputes, usually someone has misconstrued what the other side wants, and sometimes it is what we both want.

  17. DesDownunder
    Like all good video stores we have members who insist on showing us how well they can scratch the DVDs.
    I have wondered if the opposition actually pays people to borrow from us and use the discs as Frisbees for the dog.
    Off course it is likely in our rich area (where the shop is, not where we live, we live in the slums on the other side of town; (of course, we are poor white gay males in case you hadn't guessed)), anyway as I was saying, it is likely that these rich folk don't even know what a DVD does, they think it is pretty silver flat plate for serving the hors d'oeuvres, which my father always called "horse doovers," but that is beside the point.
    What led me to thinking this, was the disc that was returned today covered in spaghetti and the remains of either a pizza or someone's stomach contents, or both. The amazing thing was, that after I washed the disc there were no scratches on it -not a one. Perhaps spaghetti vomit is an excellent DVD polisher. Yes? No? Damn, that is going to take quite a bit of research.
    Unlike many stores we don't limit our customers to the nearby suburbs. We rent to anyone from anywhere. We even have a couple of members in the US. They visit Addle-aid every year on business or to see relatives, probably to make sure they are still alive. (It is hard to tell if Adelaidians are alive without actually watching them move about the room.)
    Anyway one of our US members walks in and in that delightful American drawl, announces that he remembered to pack his membership caahd!
    "Ah just had to borrow some more of your Aussie dinkum movies. Did I say that right?" he asks.
    "Not quite," I tell him, "the phrase is, "fair dinkum Aussie," not Aussie dinkum, but it's okay, we get what you mean."
    "Fair dinkum Aussie," he repeats, "Got it!" And he wanders off to make his selection.
    Shortly after and while he is still in the store, another visitor, this time from interstate walks in and wants to know if he can borrow a DVD. I check out his driver's licence and he is from a Sydney suburb. He has that typical golden surfer boy look that is so common in Sydney, and I checkout more than his licence, until his friend (another sun-tanned beauty), yells out to him, "Hey they got fag movies in here."
    Together the two of them descend on the Gay and Lesbian movie section and guffaw loudly at the advertising slicks on the DVD boxes.
    One of our regular customers overhears these two and comes over to the counter and asks me if I would like him to throw the two guys out of the shop.
    I tell him no, because if they keep looking at the Gay films they might ask me if I know anything about them and I can offer to show them in the store room. The customer bursts out laughing, which causes the now unusually large number of foreign looking customers to look at him.
    Suddenly I realise what has happened. It is raining outside and the visitors to the state who have come to see our world famous (yeah right) car race have all decided to get a movie for the night.
    "Do ya have any racing movies?" asks a dark skinned Latin, petrol head from South America.
    "Have you seen Fast and Furious?" I ask him.
    "Is it good?" he wants to know.
    "Sure, I say, "It's just like my sex life." hint, hint.
    "You Aussie peoples are so funny," he answers with a wink. (He winked at me! Yes! and it was all I could do to restrain myself from jumping over the counter and letting him have his way with me, but I restrained myself. I pointed to the action/thrills section which was alongside the gay section still being examined by the two surfer boys from New South Wales.
    There are moments in the life of a video store that brighten the owner's day. The following is one or two of such instances of opportunity that presented themselves.
    A middle aged couple, obviously from out of town because they were of good humour, approached the counter, where the woman asked in a loud clear voice, "Can I join with my husband?"
    I looked over the top of my glasses at her and said just as loudly, "Well we don't usually allow that sort of thing in the store."
    There was a deathly silence for a few seconds until her husband began laughing, the American guy went into hysterical guffaws, only to be joined by everyone else in the store.
    "Oh," said the woman after stopping her own laughter, "I just have to be a member of this store."
    I smiled and said in my most polite voice, "Of course you do, madam." She giggled.
    The two lads fingering through the gay selection were also laughing and chatting with the hot Latin looking guy.
    The Latin guy had decided to watch the Fast and Furious movie, and placed the box on the counter. I got his DVD for him, but when I returned to the counter, the two bronzed surfer types have also placed not one, but two gay movies on the counter.
    The Latin guy tells me he will pay for them all, and the two lads' bronzed faces are blushing red. They leave together to research what I suspect (hope) will be fast and furious international gay relationships. Who knew?
    I just hope they don't scratch the DVDs in the process.
    What a day.
  18. DesDownunder

    I'm Hot

    By DesDownunder,

    I'm Hot, but you all knew that didn't you?
    We are sweltering in a heatwave here in Adelaide South Australia with 3 days (or is it 4) over 44C (111F).
    We have had over 30 people suffer sudden deaths from the heat with more expected.
    The politicians are to blame for the heat according to a section of the local community.
    I don't think any of our politicians could get up enough energy to expel the
    quantity of hot air that would be needed to raise the temperature to where it is at the moment.
    Our pollies are just too lazy and incompetent to make things this hot deliberately,
    that would take vision and they haven't shown any signs of that in years.
    I am very hot, dudes, and I need to go have another cold shower. But then that is not a surprise
    either, I have often been told to go take a cold shower, even in the middle of winter.
    Oh and that is another thing, we are running out of water...and electricity.
    They are doing rolling outages for the electricity and of course, according to the whingers,
    that is the politician's fault too. As I said earlier, the politicians don't have much energy.
    You will be pleased to know that the gas is working so I can cook the BF a nice hot meal when he gets home from work.
    I'm hot. I said that didn't I? The air conditioner has broken down, blown up, reached the end of it serviceable life.
    Damn thing only lasted 30 years. They don't make them like they used to.
    At least the fridge is working, (when the electricity is supplied.) And I have all you real cool dudes to chat with on the forums.
    I got to go have that cold shower. Hope their is enough water...
    Anyone for hot times?
  19. DesDownunder
    Fellow Blogarians, or is that Blogites?
    I am suffering from some computer malfunctions...err what I mean is, that the computer is misbehaving in quite dramatic ways never before seen by man or boy.
    Win XP has determined that my programs need to be installed whilst I am in the middle of using them??? On top of that the file associations are all dropping back to the command line mode, which looks like DOS, but isn't because Micro$oft said that XP doesn't have any DOS.
    So if I seem to be not here, I am busy fixing it so I can return as quickly as possible.
    I think it is okay now but just in case... you know that I have not run off or been run over by a bus.
  20. DesDownunder
    Well that was quite a good distraction setting up this blog. I have no idea what I will do with it.
    I should be writing my April Fools' story. It is nearly finished.
    It is very foolish.
    Today's word of wisdom: Buy a dish washer, or get a boyfriend who won't moan about doing the dishes.
    I have left several notes for my reincarnation to remind myself to make the dish washer a number one priority in my next life, assuming of course I come back as a human being or something similar.
  21. DesDownunder

    (42) Exhausted

    By DesDownunder,

    I'm exhausted!
    The new computer is up and running...on Windows XP.
    I still have a number of programs to install and the hard drives need to be configured to my
    weird standards of operation.
    I must tell you of a program I happened across that I bought because I really like it.
    It is called "Priority Master 7". Basically it allows you to set priorities for the running of programs in relation to CPU usage. At least that is what I think it does.
    Left in auto mode the program boosts the current app and decreases others to idle mode.
    The overall effect is to make the computer more responsive, saving time and frustration.
    You can see the program at
    http://www.prioritymaster.com/
    A friend of mine who was disappointed with his computer has tried it too, and he is now happy.
    I have loads of work to catch up on so I will still won't be around as much as I want, but I hope to be back annoying you all soon. I have a few unfinished poems that are aching to be completed.

  22. DesDownunder

    (35) My new story

    By DesDownunder,

    My latest story "Definitions" has just been posted at Codey's World.
    Definitions -my new story
    I hope you all enjoy reading it.
    Sometimes we forget how much effort and time goes into getting a story not only written, but also the people behind the scenes who edit and publish our stories for us wretched authors.
    I would like to thank Codey and Ben for their help and inspiration for this story.
    After you have read "Definitions" drop into the CW's homepage and have a look at all the other new stories and poems as well.
    Don't forget too, The AwesomeDude has wonderful stories and forums.
    We are so lucky to have these sites. Drop in and say "Hi", Let the author's and the site owners know you are enjoying the toils of their slaving. (Some of us even like positive criticism.)
    Most of us will reply with a big thank you.
    Okay I will stop there before I get emotional and start getting teary-eyed.

  23. DesDownunder
    I am certain I have been suffering an URTI, an upper respiratory infection. Of course being a hypochondriac I was certain it was my dismal end until I started to feel better. Better enjoyed me feeling him too. I call him Better because he is better than me at coping with mild complaints. (I'm better at major surgical interventions.)
    So convinced was I, of my fate, I began a dismal poem about "The End."
    I may of course have to wait until I am dead to finish it as I want it to be accurate.
    I made a big batch of what I call my Lentil stew. It cost less than $10 for 14 meals.
    I deep freeze it and when ready just reheat it and do other things to it, like curry it or put it on noodles or both.
    We eat it in the dark whilst we watch a movie so we don't have to look at it.
    Now I can afford to buy next week's cheese and coffee.
  24. DesDownunder
    Nothing happened yesterday.
    The weather has changed, summer has gone and you will all be relieved no doubt, to know that I have had to put clothes on to keep warm. No more typing naked at the keyboard till November at the earliest, unless we turn the heater up way too high.
    Daylight saving ended last weekend here in Adelaide, Australia and it is dark by 6 pm. Still we may yet have a few more sunny days of warmth before our Southern Winter hits.
    The above is merely an inane entry to make sure that I can still type whilst wearing clothes.

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