Damn you Zeke!!!

Perth Shenanigans...

2012-01-24T10:44:00.002+10:00

I went to Perth for a quick holiday a couple of weekends ago. I have a tonne of photos, but I really hate travel photos, so I'll not bore you all with pictures of buildings and shit that I saw (ooooh look... a tree!)

But it was a great 5 day break. Far too much booze, and quite a lot of sun (I have a tan!). Possibly the most exciting part of the trip, I broke my mother fucking sex drought.

That's right... I had to fly to the other side of the fucking country to get some cock. And it was good cock.

Interesting fact - he is actually from Brisbane. So I flew to the other side of the fucking country to get cock that lives only three streets away from me.

Expensive root.

Sad fact - he tells me the next morning that he has to work out a way to tell his boyfriend of 15 years why he didn't come home last night.

Bastard.

They say a change...

2012-01-23T12:06:00.005+10:00

On line dating really isn't my thing, but I do have both a Grindr and Scruff app on my iPhone (Scruff being the older, hairier, manlier version of Grindr).

I've never had many pick up attempts off either site (save for a bizarre "Can I lick your toes and then cum all over your feet?" request), so I thought I might change my picture to see what would happen.

So I went from this;

Taken back in March 2009, slightly boozed, but looking rather happy. To this;

Boxing Day 2011, new trimmed stubble in place trying to look brooding and serious (my forehead looks funny because I had to erase a fake tramp stamp tattoo from it. I do not do photo shop well!).

And the result? I think my phone was about to blow up with the amount of notifications it was getting. I felt oh so popular!

Interestingly, I was getting messages from guys that failed to respond to my previous attempts at striking up a conversation. I'm still the same person guys, but I've realised that you are a bit of a shallow cunt.

I still haven't progressed to meeting people off the apps - I'm just not in a hooking up frame of mind still. But it is nice to know that people do find me attractive enough to hit up.

Success!

2012-01-17T17:15:00.002+10:00

I totally got into uni!

I will be studying a Bachelor of Film and Screen Media Production at the Queensland College of Art as of 27 Feb.

I am ever so pleased with myself - last year the course had an entrance score of 3. In Queensland the highest score is 1, lowest is 25, so that means this course is very popular and only the top students are admitted. And now that includes me.

I am also shitting my pants at the thought of going back to uni. I am bound to be the oldest person in class (I've googled a lecturer, and I am older than him). There is also the pressure to make this work. I am taking a massive risk trying to crack this industry, so I hope the course is every thing I expect it to be. And I hope I actually manage to excel at the course work too.

Now I just need to find some casual work to bring in some cash... that is proving to be the hardest part of all.

Diet Tip #1

2012-01-11T12:23:00.004+10:00

1. Cook a lovely breakfast of two poached eggs, wilted spinach and grilled tomato on toast with a fresh strong coffee.

2. Attempt to balance plate of food, knife, fork and coffee.

3. Drop half your breakfast on the floor.

4. Half the calories remain.

Success!!!!1!

And the spending continues...

2012-01-10T10:05:00.005+10:00

Ladies and gentlemen, I wish to introduce to you Ms Rebecca Black...

She is my new car (well new to me) and was my Xmas present to myself late last year. She is a 2004 manual Astra Hatch, and I think she is just lovely. She was to be named Deni Hines - but apparently that would have been racist for some reason.

It is the single biggest purchase of my life - $8500 in cold hard cash plonked down in one transaction. But fuck it was nice to drive off from the dealership knowing that this is my car with no financial constraints weighing over my head.

She has already done one trip to Chinchilla (about 3.5 hours south west of Brisbane) for a Xmas catch-up with my brothers family. She traversed the Toowoomba range with such ease - I didn't have to change out of fourth.

She has also already caught the eye of the parking inspectors in my street - twice! What a hussy!

But knowing my history with cars, I hope I can manage to keep this one on the road for a lot longer than the past few. I love being back on the road again.

Ohhh.... shiny things

2012-01-09T17:04:00.005+10:00

My new babies... A 27 inch iMac, and a 13 inch macbook pro - photographed with my new iPhone 4s.

No I haven't suddenly converted to the cult of Apple, I just needed a new laptop, and since I will be doing quite a lot of practical uni assignments I really needed a desk top computer to work off (I hate working for long periods on a laptop screen).

OK - I really didn't need the iMac - but god damn, it is one pretty bitch. And since I've had it, I've actually been blogging (well this is my 2nd post written on the machine), and doing quite a bit of research for uni and my creative pursuits.

Probably not a wise investment considering my redundancy payout is supposed to last me two years - but I just want to own something nice and shiny. OK?

Stop judging me!

(PS - how freaking dark is my study nook? That pic was taken in the middle of the day, flash on. Looks very dark.)

Run fat arse, run!

2012-01-08T09:46:00.006+10:00

Holy Jesus fucking Christ. I just ran my first ever fun run. In summer. In Brisbane.

I am shagged. Shagged, but oh so proud of my self.

As per usual I have been struggling with my weight. Last year saw my weight hit the 105kg mark and that saw my self confidence take an absolute dive. Too much beer, not enough exercise and not enough commitment to myself health.

So my good mate is a runner (half marathons even) and one afternoon over beers he convinced me to do the "Resolution Run" - so named because its held very close to new years and its supposed to help you stick to your New Years Resolutions.

So I drunkenly booked in to do the 5.5km run about 6 weeks ago. Of course with Xmas and new years celebrations I have done next to no training, and as of last week was seriously considering pulling out. Surely I would embarrass myself completely having done no training?

But no. Benji was not pulling out of this race. 2012 is the year that I challenge myself at every opportunity (my only resolution) . So last night I had no booze, got all my gear together for the early stat (7.20am on a Sunday morning), and went to bed at a reasonable hour. THIS WILL BE GREAT.

Then - dickhead sleeps through his alarm. I woke up at 7:05, giving me 15 minutes to get dressed and into the CBD. FUCK.

But I made it - drove like a mad man, parked illegally ($150 parking fine), managed to drive while putting on shoes and socks, piss bolted down city streets to get the river stage and rocked up to the start line with about 2 minutes to spare.

And then I had to run. It was crowded, there were prams everywhere, ladies walking and blocking the path and I was already stuffed after running to get to the start. But I ran for quite some time before I had to stop to walk (someone decided to power up and over the Goodwill Bridge instead of take it at a reasonable pace). But the first walk wasn't until the 2.5km mark, so happy with that.

After that it was a combo of shuffle-running (cause I was hurting) and walking. I kept a girl in a green t-shirt in my sights. Her pace was perfect for me and it worked.

So my finished time (according to my iPod) was 38:40... not too shabby at all.

Now that I've knocked over my first run, time to start train gin properly and improve on my time.

Angry

2012-01-03T00:12:00.002+10:00

I am feeling rather frustrated of late.

These frustrations are leading to anger being displayed in ways that are not entirely healthy and/or appropriate.

This usually happens when I've been drinking.

Just like now.

Apparently I was very drunk on Monday night last week, and I went off my tree at my housemate for not keeping the house clean.

I went quite ballistic at another friend for spreading untruths about me on the same night when he wasn't there to witness the things he was spreading.

On NYE I was at a party with a new group of friends, and I told some naughty stories to a group of straight guys who managed to twist them into an insult (confirmed by a sober person there). I let them know that I was not impressed.

And I am seriously pissed right now.

Tonight I find out that the person that I have been crushing on for far too long (long time readers may recall me referring to a "nice guy"), just sprouts shit to me. He tells me that the guy he hooked up with on Wed last week was too camp to consider a future with, then he tells another friend that he would move to Melbourne for the same camp man.

DON'T TELL ME SHIT. I am man enough to deal with you hooking up with other people.

He does nothing but confuse the shit out of me. I get a tattoo - he tells me he doesn't like men with tattoos. Why does it matter? I decide that I am going to have a neatly trimmed beard thing going on - he tells me he hates beards. It doesn't matter what you like.

For the last six months our mutual friends keep telling me that we should be together. Well I can't take it anymore. This guy is holding me back from being happy.

From my substance abuse counselling it has been identified that he is my "enabler" - the person that leads me astray to do bad things. I don't think that's the case. I think he is the man that I am trying to please at any cost, hoping that he will fall into bed with me. I can't please him in that way.

BUT - his friendship is very important to me. I just need to learn how to move on and leave any fantasy about us being in a relationship in the gutter. I respect him professionally, and as a great friend but he will never be my lover.

I hope this post will allow me to have some closure.

31st July

2011-12-11T20:59:00.001+10:00

That was the last time I had sex.

Fraud

2011-12-10T13:56:00.003+10:00

News broke yesterday afternoon that a man is wanted for allegedly defrauding Queensland Health upwards of $16 million. You can read about it here.

His activities were discovered by a woman in my office (Her nickname is now Beverly Brockovich). She simply checked what happened to a $10 million payment that wasn't supposed to be processed yet. It had gone to an incorrect vendor, and when she did a quick ABN search, discovered he was the owner of the business. He didn't cover his tracks very well at all, did he?

This money wasn't destined for travel costs, or office refurbishments or even payroll. The money he has stolen was to go to charities, universities and other non-government organisations. The money was to be used for sexual health promotion, better nutrition initiatives in far north Queensland, drug rehabilitation programs, and indigenous health program just to name a few.

It sickens me that he has ripped off some of the most needy organisations and individuals in Queensland. It sickens me even more that some of these programs are now under threat because Health simply doesn't have a spare 16 mill lying about to prop up the budgets.

Heads will roll internally - a fuck up this bad can't go unpunished, but it will be interesting to see who exactly will be fired. It will also be interesting to see what happens to internal processes - how will they stop this from ever happening again?

I'm thankful that I finished up yesterday (I have officially begun my retirement!) - life is going to get very tough for my former colleagues over the next few months.

DCM

2011-11-22T20:56:00.002+10:00

Well, after a few weeks of fretting and worrying and not sleeping I have finally made a fairly significant decision about my career and my finances...

I have accepted a redundancy package... eek!

The Queensland Public Service are wanting to cut staffing figures by about 3500 - so all permanent employees were offered a "Voluntary Separation Package" to leave their cushy jobs and agree not to work in any Queensland government body for three years.

I have been offered a package of 30 weeks base salary, plus 3 extra weeks salary for each year of service - I have been working for the government for 9.3 years, so yeah, its a fairly good chunk of cash.

So as of Friday 9 December - I will be unemployed! And I am scared shitless.

I have given up the magical government "tenure" for a bag full of unmarked dollar bills. I am absolutely shit at managing dollars, so I am really worried about blowing it all on booze and hookers.

But I do have a plan. I am going to put away 18 months rent and go and study a course that will challenge my creativity - A diploma of Screen and Media (Specialising in Film and TV Production). I have so many ideas in my head for TV and movie scripts, but I want to do more than write, I want to produce, I want to get behind a camera and get involved in making them.

Its a huge risk - leaving asecure job in government purchasing (which has been the most boring six months of my life) to pursue a career in a cut-throat industry with few opportunities in Australia. But there has never been a better opportunity for me to try.

Failure is quite possible - but fuck it. I'm going to go for it and see what happens in the end.

Connectivity.... suck my fucking balls

2011-11-21T21:56:00.002+10:00

So I have unwittingly managed to delete every single one of my pictures from the blog.

Fantastic... It now looks like some retard TAFE graduate has tried to design something super-funky for their final project, and left out one little piece of code and managed to fuck it right up.

So how to did I manage to remove every image? I blame Google+.

When I joined up, it asked me if I wanted to sync all my pictures from where ever google keeps a stash of stuff I have saved. "Sure. That would make life easier," says I.

Next thing I see, Google+ has imported all of my blog pictures. Fuck. While none of them were pornographic, I just didn't want all these random images plastered all over my wall (is that what its even called in google+???), so I went and deleted them. Sure, easy enough.

What I didn't realise is that is was deleting them from Picassa, and there for everything FROM MY BLOG. Mother fuckers.

Why the hell does google have to make everything connected? Not every program under the sun has to have some sort of linkage to another program to make it better.

Apple products seem to be even worse. My housemate has a Macbook Air, an iPad and an iPhone - when someone comments on his face book status, all three devices make a sound to let him know it has happened. Its really fucking annoying when people start a flame war on his wall and it goes off for an hour or so.

Sadly, a lot of the pics were saved down on my old old flatmate's laptop, which of course has died a thousand deaths due to the amount of porn she used to watch. I really have no idea where they came from, or even who featured in some of them. But they were a reminder of happier times. Times when I had more creativity and inspiration in my life.

So what to do? Well considering I haven't blogged for a long time now - its time to refresh the design and find some new pictures. Possibly take down some of the sad sack posts when I was going insane and not coping with my illnesses.

Time to get the creative juices going again I believe... and in my next post I shall explain in a lot more detail how this is going to happen.

Donate some money... bitches

2011-09-27T13:49:00.000+10:00

http://www.msqldevents.org.au/MS-Moonlight-Walk-2011/Team+Monkey/?utm_source=team_widget&utm_medium=facebook&utm_campaign=MS_Queensland

Over dressed much?

2011-06-11T11:52:00.004+10:00

I should watch Home & Away more often... especially if Dan Ewing was to wear this in every episode...

What a fun way to spend a couple of hours,,,,

2011-04-15T22:05:00.003+10:00

My first tattoo!

Responses from friends have included;

"You fucking moron"
"You hard cunt"
"Holy fucking wow"
"I love it"

It is a very handy way to start conversations. Especially when a hot as fuck tradie starts asking you how much it hurt then details where he plans to get his done on his side while pulling his shirt tight.

Hmmmm. Hot tradie.

From Chaos Comes Clarity

2011-04-10T13:45:00.004+10:00

I must admit I am possibly at the lowest I have ever been in my life. My alcoholism has returned full force, work is completely stressing me out, I have no money, I am fatter than ever.

I get mad very easily, but then I cry even easier. I get asked to leave pubs because no one likes to see the gay man crying into his beer. It's just not pretty.

Its been very hard to find find any motivation over the past few months. It feels like I've been treading water for so long, just barely staying afloat. There are days where I think it would be easier to stop trying, and let myself sink.

But today I've had an epiphany. I was walking home from breakfast with a couple of friends, and it just hit me...

It's all going to be OK.

Not much of an epiphany, but it actually made me stop in the street for a moment.

Yes - this year has been hell so far. Floods, relationship failures, moving house, flooding house have all taken their toll. But it can, and will get better. Because I will make it better.

I am in control of this life, and I'm the only one who can change things.

There are many hurdles I have to overcome, but I have more support and love than I ever realised.

Why has it taken me so long to work this out?

Good news everybody!

2011-02-26T10:26:00.003+10:00

My liver is no longer fighting Hep C... I was at the stage where a very aggressive treatment regime was set to begin, but the last round of blood tests have shown that not only my liver working better, but there is no sign of the infection.

Hep is a strange disease in that your body can actually fight it off and you will naturally pass it, but that usually happens within the first 6 months. If it doesn't pass in that time, they treat it with interferon, which will make your hair fall out, give you extreme nausea, have a major negative effect on mood just to name a few of the side effects.

For me it took almost 12 months, which is not unheard of but uncommon.

And more good news... I have found somewhere to live. I've been staying with my parents (sigh) after my place good flood damaged. They've been overseas for the last few weeks, so I've had some space.

But next weekend I'm moving back to the city (New Farm) and will be close to my friends and my life again.

But the bad news... I broke up with my boyfriend on Wednesday.

Sigh...

No beer and no tv make Ben go something something...

2011-01-04T21:50:00.002+10:00

91 days of sobriety... doctor ordered.

No ifs, no buts, not maybes.

No success in this endeavour = no liver treatment.

Failure is not an option.

Grief cake for all...

2010-11-26T22:59:00.005+10:00

My grandmother died on Tuesday after a three month battle with just about everything they could throw at an 79 year old woman... chest infection, a minor stroke, stomach cancer, a major stroke, another chest infection which then lead to pneumonia and her death.

I got to see her on Sunday afternoon, for which I am glad. She was very weak, but alert and actively participating in the conversation. I was shocked to hear she had died two days later. I really thought she would kick on, and be around for a lot longer.

Work have been extremely supportive. Days off approved. Flowers, chocolates, indoor plants, cards all bought and given in kindness.

The funeral was today. A full catholic mass. I was asked to read one of her favourite passages.

The wake was at the community centre in her retirement village. Cakes, slices and sandwiches to help the grieving and/or happy memories flow. I smiled and talked to a mix of relatives and old ladies as they expressed their grief and sorrow at losing a loved one.

So why do I feel like an impostor in this process? It's not like I don't care that I've lost my grandmother, but it feels like I've just been going through motions, because that's what a good grandson does.

I haven't cried, I haven't wailed, I haven't punch a wall in anger at the unjustness of it all (as some of my cousins have reportedly done). I have just gone through the motions of telling people and acting appropriate manner of a person in grief.

I'm just too caught up in grieving for myself, to really care about anyone else right now.

Just another crime statistic

2010-11-01T19:16:00.001+10:00

A few weekends ago I got mugged. Well, that may be too soft a term for it. I had the crap beaten out of me and got robbed.

After the first AFL grand final, after far too many beers for a man who isn't supposed to be drinking, after my friends tried to put me in a taxi, I was found in a garden bed about 3km's from where I was left - bleeding, unconscious, sans wallet, keys, phone and shoes.

THEY STOLE MY MOTHER FUCKING SHOES!!!!

In all the years I've been going out in Fortitude Valley, I have never experienced any violence - sure I've seen fights erupt in the clubs, but I have never been involved in any altercations. EVER.

So this has thrown me more than a little bit. The Valley is my world. There's three gay venues where I have always felt comfortable and safe. Even the straight venues I frequent have always felt at home and not have to worry about getting beat up.

I used to walk home from the Valley. 3, 4, 5 in the morning, in various states of inebriation, and never had a problem. Ever.

It has been over a month now since it happened, and while I have been out a few times, I'm still more than a little bit uneasy about being out on my own.

And I hate that. Hate that so much.

Depressed? Probably...

2010-10-31T03:07:00.002+10:00

It's been a tough few weeks.

Work is extremely busy, but nothing I can't handle.

My body, though, doesn't seem to be coping. I ache constantly. I'm exhausted. I try to go for a run, but I can barely get round the block.

My boyfriend loves me. Can I take him on this journey with me?

Its three in the morning. I should be in bed but I don't want to go to sleep. I don't want to face what tomorrow brings me.

I'm not coping. Not coping at all.

Sacrilegious... and sexy

2010-09-08T22:51:00.002+10:00

Yup... I'm going straight to hell.

I have a boyfriend...

2010-07-05T22:47:00.000+10:00

He's dreamy.

That is all.

And you have a diseased liver?

2010-06-26T19:12:00.002+10:00

A bottle of red, some scotch, some shots, and then a drunken tumble and I end up looking like this;Sad thing is, I have absolutely no recollection of how it happened. No one saw me leave the party, and the first thing I remember is sitting in the Valley Mall police beat with an ambulance officer treating my gashed head.

I need some help, or I am going to end up dead.

I planted a hotdog tree once...

2010-05-25T21:02:00.004+10:00

Images of an interesting experiment landed in my inbox today...

A money tree was planted as an "experiment" by a "bank" in the middle of Sydney covered in $5 notes. It took a while but people eventually started plundering it's branches for all the cash they could get;

Interesting the lengths people will go to for a bit of free cash...

Strike Two....

2010-05-06T19:28:00.000+10:00

My latest visit to the doctor has seen me leave with a Hepatitis C diagnosis....

Fuck.

My crystal clear, healthy as ever liver enzyme tests from late January have been replaced with a test result so high it shows my liver is extremely inflamed, and dangerously over-worked.

Mother fucking whore.

Booze is now completely out and I'm off to see a hepatologist in the very near future to see if what can be done.

Thankfully though, this is curable...with a 12 week intensive course of antiviral drugs, but there is a cure.

This latest news has certainly given me a massive wake up call... the last 5 months since my last diagnosis have been a drunken blur, with little regard for myself, or anybody else in my life.

It stops now.

The flip side...

2010-04-26T11:14:00.003+10:00

You don't get diagnosed with a chronic condition that may significantly reduce your life span without getting the blues. But I'm not a total misery guts at the moment - there is a lot of good stuff going on.

I've taken 12 months leave from the job that was stressing me out so much it was having a negative effect on my health. I'm doing temp work, and actually enjoy going to work for the first time in years.

I've met a man - he lives in Sydney but we talk every day. I've told him about my health and he is very understanding. I went down to see him a few weeks ago and had an awesome time. We're taking things slowly, but it's very nice right now.

My fitness is getting back on track. I've entered the 10km run at the Gold Coast Marathon so I'm training for that as well as seeing a new personal trainer. While the weight isn't shifting yet, I can feel my strength increasing as well as my cardio fitness.

I've got a great circle of friends who I just love hanging about with.

Sure, the future is uncertain, but it always has been.

2010-04-19T22:58:00.004+10:00

I cry during Futarama.

I cry on the bus home.

I cry on the dance floor.

I cry in bed with bed with a man.

I cry when talking to mum.

I cry in bed when I'm alone.

I cry in the toilets at work.

I cried walking home from the gym tonight.

I have never cried so much in my life.

It's always silent, and rarely do people realise what is actually happening.

All it takes is a compliment, a smile, the smallest amount of praise on a job well done, and it brings me crashing down.

What will happen when I can't go out and dance with my friends, can't go to the gym, can't do my job, can't find a man to take me home?

For the first time ever I am not in total control of my life.

This fucking sucks.

A plan we can all follow... sort of

2010-02-01T10:37:00.001+10:00

So it appears I have a substance abuse problem. No surprise really after some of my posts from last year. The scary thing is since I've fallen ill, things have escalated even further.

So in conjunction with my counselor, I have an alcohol and drug plan...

Two alcohol free days per week
Only two "big nights" per week
On those big nights, one glass of water after every second alcoholic beverage
No sambucca shots. Ever
No illicit drugs. Ever

It shouldn't be too hard, but for some reason it's the hardest thing I've ever done. A 4 day bender over new years, a 5 day bender over Australia Day.

It's killing me.

I'm drinking to ease the pain, and its the only thing that's helping right now.

I'm not dead...

2010-01-28T23:14:00.004+10:00

So what do you think...is orange my colour?

That's me slightly boozed at White Wolf, a 30+ dance party held last weekend here in Brissie with my mate Andrew in the singlet and a shirtless guy that I had been dating who decided to tell me he just wants to be friends about two minutes after the pic was taken (grrr).

Interesting fact... this pic is currently on the White Wolf homepage... someone must think one of us is pretty!!

Check out the galleries to see what sort of party it really was...

Ps - yes, this post was nothing more than me stroking my own ego. But fuck it... I need an ego boost right now.

Farewell... I think

2010-01-10T16:19:00.003+10:00

My health took a turn for the worse late last year - it's fairly serious, and it possibly will eventually kill me, but right now my life isn't impacted much at all. I just have to destress and look after myself (ie - stop drinking).

Depression is a real risk right now, so at my Doctor's insistence I see a counsellor every week. I didn't think it would be of any benefit, but I really enjoy it, and feel like I'm actually getting my head together.

However the counselling has taken away my desire/my need to blog. I have an outlet to share my emotions and problems, and I have immediate feedback and validation of what's going on in my head. I'm also in a space right now where I don't want to bare my soul to the blogsphere anymore.

So do I put Zeke to bed? Shut down the blog altogether? I don't think so. I still need a creative outlet, but I just don't know what form it will take.

So i think it's goodbye for now... its been grand writing and getting all your feedback over the last year or so.

Keep writing... I'll keep reading!

PS - add me on facebook if you haven't already. Apparently my status updates are hilarious.

I may or may not be drunk...

2009-12-27T22:24:00.003+10:00

But I think Sesame Street is fucking awesome...

Some holiday hotness....

2009-12-26T01:35:00.006+10:00

Yes! I have a Manhunt account. I'm not ashamed to admit it. Though I have rarely met anyone off the cruise site, it's fun to go through the profiles and see who's out there looking for some fun in Brisneyland.

But sometimes the best thing about logging into Manhunt is this gentleman that randomly pops up at the login screen;

That tattoo, the shaved head, the facial hair, those eyes. THOSE ARMS.

Sigh.

Today's episode is bought to you by the letter "S" for sad

2009-12-23T10:48:00.003+10:00

Olivia from Sesame street has died at age 63 from breast cancer. Played by actress Alaina Reid Hall, Olivia was always one of my favourite "Real People" from Sesame Street.

This is a beautiful clip from the show (can't find the year);

Sesame street has a done a lot for teaching kids about diversity, tolerance and understanding.

And you thought I was dead...

2009-12-22T12:00:00.000+10:00

A quick post to update what's been going down in Benji town...

Moved house (again) -Yay!

On holidays til Jan 4 - Yay!

Drinking way too much while on holidays - Yay!

Kept seeing that guy who was already in a relationship for almost three months - Idiot!

But I dumped him - Yay!

Regular posting will resume soon... I think

Best key word search ever...

2009-10-06T11:01:00.001+10:00

Some one found my blog with the following Ggoogle search;

"Since I stopped drinking I seem to have a rash"

Doctor Benji recommends you start drinking again to see if it goes away.

It's Complicated...

2009-10-05T13:18:00.001+10:00

So I met a man.

We went on a date.

It was nice, very nice. No bedroom shenanigans. Just a quick peck on the cheek and the promise of another date in the near future.

So three days later we meet for another date. Yes it was fast, but he made all the moves. And once again, very nice. I got boozy on wine and started to get very touchy, so I took him to a gay bar where we made out like teenagers for hours.

He dropped me home, we did something naughty in the car, but no bedroom shenanigans again.

Then the man goes overseas for two weeks. He emails me every day. We share, we learn.

This is looking to be promising.

The man finally returns home, and we meet up as soon as possible, at his insistence.

He certainly knows how to push my buttons.

Date three was spectacular. Nothing more can be said.

Really... could this be going somewhere?

The next morning, he rolls over in bed and comes clean about his ten year relationship that he doesn't plan on ending any time soon.

I still went on the fourth date.

Idiot.

FAIL!!!1!

2009-10-01T12:00:00.000+10:00

...or is it a win?

Hmmmm.... shiny

2009-09-30T20:02:00.006+10:00

I bought a new laptop... it's supposed to inspire me to write some fantastically witty posts (well its supposed to make writing easier if I don't have to hold in the charger to make the fucking thing work).

But in the week I've had it...*nothing*

Sigh.

But I did make an interesting choice not to transfer across my iTunes account to my shiny new laptop. Well I started to, but only 300 songs got transfered before I got sick of the old heap of shit turning off on me.

So that's left a little hole in my collection of close to 4000 songs.

Fuck.

So of the remaining people that actually might read this post... I need so suggestions to repopulate me decimated iTunes library.

So far I've gone a bit spastic with classic Smashing Pumpkins, found some great acoustic Lady Gaga and Boys Like Girls, reacquainted myself with some screaming System of a Down, and remembered how much I loved Machine Gun Fellatio at Uni.

You get the idea... I have a far reaching taste in music. So throw me some ideas of some great new, old or down right embarrassing music that I must get my hands on.

Extra points if you manage to avoid mentioning Mariah Carey/Whiteny Houston/Celine Dion (yes I looking at you Mr Skyhooker).

I might write a new post one day...

2009-09-24T11:00:00.001+10:00

But it won't be today.

Blogging is hard....

2009-09-07T18:59:00.001+10:00

So here's a picture of a clam....

Just a little bit of clam talk for your morning cereal...

2009-08-26T23:18:00.002+10:00

Oh Fifi.... you are a spastic.

So it was unintentional.... but any woman that can slip the C-Bomb into breakfast TV deserves my applause and ever-lasting adoration.

Australia's Got No Talent...

2009-08-25T21:51:00.006+10:00

Lets get things straight. Australian Idol shits me to tears. Wannabe singers destroying great songs (and a huge number of shitty songs too) all in an attempt to garner a craptacular record deal that will be absolutely worthless and provide no longevity in the music industry (hello Casey Donovan, medical receptionist).

The fact the Kunty Kyle Sandilands managed to get his sizable arse fired from the show did nothing to excite me this year. It was just bound to be the same shit every Sunday night until the 17 year old Hill Song devotee is announced as winner.... boring.

Then they announced the new judge last night. Mr Jay Dee Springbett;

Wow. The ex-pat pom, R&D man for Sony BMG London is my type of man.

Baldy head? Check!

Nice and tall? Check!

Hot accent? Check!

Penis? Um, hopefully check!

That's all I need really.

He apparently is on the chunkier side of hunky (40 inch waist....meh), and is a dedicated family man (bugger), but I think he is one hot looking guy.

He looks like a shy, non-egotistical gentleman that would buy you breakfast the next day as a thank you for the many, many, many hours of hot man sex where he does horrible, nasty, sexy things to you as he whispers filthy nothings in that hot pommie accent into your ear.

Sigh.

But sadly, even with this hotness filling my TV screen, Idol still just isn't worth watching.

My talents number three...

2009-08-25T11:08:00.000+10:00

I can do a lot of things. Tie my shoelaces, deep throat bananas, ignore the bible. But there are many things I simply cannot do, and really wish I could;

Grow a beard - while I have very coarse stubble (many men whinge about pash rash after a session with me), I can't get it to form any sort of reasonable looking facial hair. I'd love a goatee, but it just looks like a rodent has been trying to form a nest on my face.

Sing - tone deaf I am. I used to have to do a singing component to my music exams as a teen, and I had one examiner remark "I've heard dying elephants sound better than that". Karaoke is not my friend, but how I wish it was.

Cook a roast - I am a good cook, I really am. So cooking a roast should be simple. Turn on the oven, bung in the slab of meat, chuck in the veggies, make gravy, enjoy. But no.... the last time I tried a roast it took forever and was fucking horrible, so I went and got subway for everyone.

Run - well I try to run from a fitness perspective, but it's more of a shuffling wheezing, death jog where I'm all hunched over like an arthritic old man. I do hope with time I will be one of those guys you see running down street looking like they're going for a simple stroll. But I just don't think it will ever happen.

Pronounce words the containing the "th" sound - yes, I actually have a speech impediment. It's more of a lazy tongue thing though. Where as normal people's tongue will automatically go forward to touch their teeth when pronouncing any word with the "th" sound, mine just flaps about and does weird shit. While I can do it, it's a conscious effort to do so. "Brother" is the word I have the most problems with. It usually comes out as "Bwuvva".

Accept compliments - I still blush and defer to other people/circumstances as being responsible. "Oh no, it was all Jesus/flesh eating virus/hot sex with your mother that helped me lose the weight. I had no input into it at all."

I'm sure there a million other things that belong on the list (I'm sure the ex-boyfriends would add a few more too).

So what simple things can't you do?

They call me Quick Draw McGraw...

2009-08-22T09:23:00.004+10:00

My night's out on the town can be rather confusing and drawn out. SO here's last night's events in an easy to read time line format;

11:00pm - Enter the Wickham Hotel with housemate and mate.

11:02pm - Start sucking face with a cute younger gentlemen.

11:10pm - Leave Wickham Hotel with cute younger gentlemen.

9:00am - Cute younger gentlemen leaves my room.

It's been a while, but I even shocked myself with the swiftness of that pickup.

Ps - It was freaking great.

I'm more of a well wisher, in that I don't wish you any particular harm...

2009-08-20T13:49:00.003+10:00

I like this pic of me.

Nothing more to add.

I remember back when I was a young'un...

2009-08-18T10:28:00.000+10:00

Arghhh... I'm having a budget nightmare at the moment. My excessive drinking of months past and constant shopping for clothes I wear once and spill grog all over really don't match my income. But its got me thinking back to how much my financials have changed over the years...

The last house I rented in Toowoomba, nine years ago cost my housemate and I $175 per week - in total. That was for four bedrooms, two bathrooms, two living areas, and a big back yard in a fairly modern low set brick house. Our friends thought we were mad paying that much rent.

The last house I rented here in Brisbane with Kat was $380 per week, and for that we got three small bedrooms and one bathroom in a fairly crappy post-war home with a toilet cistern that kept falling off the wall and a hot water system that would magically die during winter mornings.

But was officially inner suburban (in fact walking distance home from the Valley, if you call a 40 minute drunk stumble walking distance), and we could see the fireworks over the river so it wasn't all bad (but that ruins my point).

As assistant manager at the Mecure Hotel Toowoomba I used to earn $35k per year. That was for a salary position, with no overtime, more often than not working at 70 hours plus a week, managing two restaurants, two bars, 3 function rooms and 98 hotel rooms and then all the fucking paperwork that goes along with it.

These days a base level receptionist at work earns $38k to answer the phone, sign people in and out of the visitor's register and do some basic data entry.

That's royally fucked in my humble opinion.

One thing that I noticed that hasn't really changed over the years is the price of grog. Sure, you can pay up to $10 for spirits in some clubs up here, and cocktails are a fucking rip off, but I can still get a scotch and dry for between $5 and $8 in most pubs. Considering I used to charge $5.50 for basics in my hotel almost ten years ago that really isn't too much of a price increase.

So... its kinda like Jesus and K Rudd want me to drink, yeah?

Keep your sappy sentiments to your self buddy...

2009-08-17T14:41:00.000+10:00

This morning in the call centre, new guy writing down my coffee request for the mobile van that was about to arrive out front;

Me - "extra large skinny latte, please." (It was shaping up to be a tough day)

New Guy - "Any sugar?"

Me - "No sugar for me, thanks"

You could see the cogs turning in his head. Was he gonna spit out the "awww... you're sweet enough already..." line? He wouldn't would he? Surely not. That would be horrible for all involved.

So to circumvent the potentially embarrassing line being uttered, I cut him off with;

"I'm a bitter old cunt. No amount of sugar is gonna help that."

The look on his face indicated that I had perhaps over-stepped a line.

Demons be gone!

2009-08-16T13:49:00.000+10:00

An update on my journey to avoid Alcoholics Anonymous... it appears that I do in fact have some will power, and am not on the slippery slope of selling my arse hole to fund my drinking and drug habits.

Last Saturday night I attended a party with friends, and I volunteered to be designated driver. This is something I would never do in the past, as I always get pissed and would leave people in the lurch, but I needed a reason to stay sober. So I rocked up with my six pack of low carb beer and sat and watched everyone else get increasingly intoxicated.

But instead of getting shitty at not being able to join in the festivities, I really was having a good time sitting and chatting to strangers without knocking over glasses, spitting on them and making a general arse of myself.

After a few hours of the owner of the car I was driving wanted to go into the Valley to meet up with friends...but I could totally go home to bed and just return the car in the morning if I wanted.

Fuck that... it was only 11:30, and I didn't want to be at home by myself wishing that I could actually be smashed out of my skull having fun. So I offered to not only drive them in, but also offered to stay and drive them all back home when ever they felt like it was time to stumble home.

My friends were incredulous , but i was true to my word and stayed out with them until 5:00am.

Yes. Eight hours surrounded by drinking and increasingly intoxicated people and I only consumed 6 beers the entire time.

That, ladies and gentlemen, is what I call a successful evening.

But it doesn't stop there... Tuesday night had the potential to be another boozy evening. It was our Ekka Show holiday eve, so it's a notoriously big night as the entire town seems to go out on the turps. But I managed to go out with a big group of people from work, and sip on a few beers and cocktails over the course of the evening.

Unlike some of my work peers who got increasingly drunk in front of their staff, I managed to remain calm, professional and not look like an arse.

Once again... that is a major change for me.

Then there was Thursday night... more potential trash-baggery could have ensured, but I had a great time in a great new club on only four beers.

So I think I have proved to myself I can actually go out with money in my wallet and not have to piss all up the wall on sambucca shots and endless scotch and dry's.

It hasn't all been completely sober sally evening's on the town however. This Friday night's shenanigans definitely saw me go over the limit (but not to extreme proportions). This post is long enough already so lets just say no sambucca was involved (I truly believe it is Satan's sperm and sends me over the edge), but I did end up in the smoking area of The Beat pashing on with a blond welsh woman who had to teach me how to cop a feel of her boobs properly.

Some things will never change.

Where's the big screen version of "Go Dog Go!"?

2009-08-10T22:59:00.004+10:00

Movie adaptations of books are generally shite. Like, um, that one that sucked. Well pretty much any Stephen King movie (with the exception of The Green Mile) and apparently the Da Vinci Code sucked balls compared to the book (but I haven't read it).

So when I read they were making a movie out of the ki'ds book "Where the Wild Things Are" I was completely under-whelmed at the prospect of it. I never liked the book as a kid, and Hollywood has a poor track record with turning kids books into good film (anyone remember the god-awful the Cat in the Hat?).

But after watching the preview, I totally want to see it.

'Where The Wild Things Are' Theatrical Trailer @ Yahoo! Video

Completely reminds me of the Labyrinth, without David Bowie's giant penis showing through his tights to distract me from the puppets.

You see us as a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess and a criminal.

2009-08-09T18:18:00.000+10:00

Sad news that legendary 80's director John Hughes has died at age 59 over the weekend.

The Breakfast Club, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Uncle buck are some of my faves of his. But for out-of-control teen hormone driven hilarity, Weird Science ranks in my top ten movies of all time.

Enjoy this great montage of all of his work;

Gravel rash where?

2009-08-06T22:54:00.008+10:00

So.

Have you noticed that I have a list of worries?

Yes?

Good.

My biggest one right now is my inability to control my drinking.

I know some of my more popular posts have been recollections of boozy nights past, but after last weekend, I'm more than a little concerned about it.

Lets summarise the damage of a last weekend's bender in no particular order;

2 - nights of drinking
500 - dollars spent, probably more
1 - Hole in the lounge room wall
3 - ex's attempted to hook back up with on various dancefloors
0 - successful hook up attempts with ex's
1 - Irishman in my bed that wouldn't kiss
5 - smashed glasses in the kitchen sink
1 - arse cheek covered in gravel rash
2 - over worked kidneys
x - number of sambucca shots consumed, where x may equal anything between 1 and infinity.

It was all kind of a blur really. But I do remember both nights getting to the stage where I just went "Fuck it... lets just get trashed".

And I did. With a great deal of success. And that's what really worries me the most. That I had to take it to that next level.

Why wasn't tipsy to medium level drunk enough? I was having a great time both nights, but oblivion was just calling my name.

So two mammoth hangovers, two days in a row, left me pretty much without a good proper sleep in, and a good relaxing day to recover from a fairly hellish week.

And the embarrassment of crashing through the house at 4am with the non-kissing Irish man, breaking all the glasses in the sink and then falling over in the courtyard with my pants around my ankles has led me to the conclusion that enough is enough.

So I've told a few people that I need to cut back, and all are supportive.

"Yes! It'll be great for your health."

"Yes! It'll be great for your budget."

"Yes! It'll be great for your reputation to not look like a drunken sloppy whore every time you go out."

But tonight a couple of those supportive people seem to have forgotten about being supportive.

"So you're coming out tomorrow then?" asks one. When I say no, probably gonna go to the parents for a visit, I get laughed at.

"I'm sure I'll see you on the dance at midnight out of your skull!" Chortle, chortle, snigger.

Fuck you. You have no faith in me at all? Thanks.

And then another tonight sends me a text saying "Come get trashed with me!" with my reply being "I'm cutting back, remember?"

The response? "Oh. Fuck that".

Once again. Thanks.

I know I've said it before, told people that I have to cut back, and will try and adhere to a low booze weekend. And have miserably failed. On more than one occasion.

I need to not get trashed this weekend. I need to display some self control. Just to prove to myself that I can actually do it.

But what if I can't?

I put my togs in my port along with my jandals...

2009-08-05T22:53:00.002+10:00

Kiwi ad, but rather witty....

I don't normally go for long-haired men, but that guy does something for me.

Sigh... I need some action.

Yay for not sleeping

2009-08-05T00:41:00.001+10:00

Well I'm into my second night of not sleeping, so I thought I go through my half completed posts and see what I can spew out with as little effort as possible.... and it's a fucking Meme (I think I stole it from Damien from Two Cents Worth, but can't be sure)

Enjoy....or go fuck yourself. What ever pleases....

Fruit: Nil. I despise fruit. I know it's supposed to be good for me, but everything I buy just goes off in the fruit bowl. Ohhhh.... do lolly bananas count?

Flower: Oriental Lillie's... when my grandfather died, everyone at work chipped in for a big bunch of them. I took them home and my house just had the scent of these flowers in it for so long.

Ice Cream: Anything chocolate.... double, triple, double dipped with choc topping chocolate orgasm inducing chocolate CHOCOLATE CHOCOLATE. But not white chocolate. That's for poofters and old ladies.

Restaurant: West End Garden at, um, West End. Fantastic little Vietnamese place that is just a stroll down the hill from my office. $7.50 chilli chicken with lemon grass and steamed rice. Friendly service (plus some cute waiters on a Friday).

Sport: Competitive masturbation. Sadly, no one wins.

Number: 15. Read this post for detail.

Soda: Coke Zero... or an old fashioned can of Sars.

Song: As of this very moment it's 3's & 7's by Queens of the Stone Age (Damn you guitar hero for having influence over my song choices).

Colour: Black. Like my sense of humour.

Saying: "Mother fucking cunt!" well I said it quite a few times today when I managed to blow up two PC's in the middle of massive data saves.

Actor: Anything cute with a six pack, that might look half gay will do. I'm not picky. But none of those poofter from Twilight. Seriously, get a tan.

Drink:Alcoholic.... Scotch and Dry, but am learning to enjoy a nice bottle of red lately.

Breakfast food: if I have time, poached eggs

Favorite possession: My sanity....but if I don't get some sleep it may not be round for much longer

Mall store: Universal Store

Fast food restaurant: Hanichi.... best value in any food court. Hmmm Japanese pork curry.

Comedian: Kathy Griffin, Jason Rouse

Brady Bunch or Gilligan's Island: Neither held much interest for me as a kid. I loved You Can't Do That on Television.

Holiday: Ekka Wednesday

Hard Candy: Werther's Originals reminds of my Pop, but I'm not really sure he ever had them. Strange.

Cartoon Character: Roger from American Dad

Kind of pants: Jeans... as long as they flatter my arse.

I'm...

2009-08-03T22:47:00.003+10:00

I'm scared that I'm about to be made redundant.
I'm scared that any shred of a career I had is gone.
I'm scared that I've hit the 100kg mark again.
I'm scared that I've forgotten how to lose weight, and I'll never get to my goal.
I'm scared that my drinking is seriously out of control.
I'm scared that I've gained a reputation for being a sloppy drunk that chases after anything on a dance floor.
I'm scared that I'll never find a man.

I'm especially scared that in the 12 or so months since I've been blogging I have achieved sweet fuck all in my life.

I was gonna disable comments on this one. I'm scared what some of you will have to say.

The voices... they tell me things

2009-07-25T16:57:00.009+10:00

Read this quote from Harry Potter star Daniel Radcliffe;

"I just loathe homophobia. It’s just disgusting and animal and stupid and it’s just thick people who can’t get their heads around it and are just scared. I grew up around gay people entirely. I was the only child in my class who had any experience of homosexuality or anything like that."

Now tell me... did you not automatically hear a posh pommy accent in your head as you read that?

Or am I just a weirdo freak?

(Thanks to Joe.My.God for the pic and quote.)

2009-07-16T08:53:00.000+10:00

It's official. I have lost my sex drive.

Gasp!

Apart from a couple drunken dance floor pashes (and one taxi driver pash) there has been absolutely no action for Benji.

Shock!

And I'm not really missing it.

Horror!

This has been the longest period of my life I have gone without sex.

Smurf!

Well, it's probably only been three weeks, but that's a long time between doodles for slutty old Benji.

Jumanji!

Work has been absolutely flat out, and I'm coming home exhausted. Yes! I'm working my arse off.

PAP SMEAR!

I'm not spending hours trawling manhunt/gaydar looking for a potential date and/or bum fun.

EXTENDED WARRANTY!

And when I do go out, the end result isn't me ending up in a random bed having bad fumbling drunken sex.

RHONDA BURCHMORE!

What ever am I to do?

Sweet dreams...

2009-07-13T09:59:00.007+10:00

I'm standing in a petrol station , my wallet is almost empty, I don't recognise the currency that's left.

The attendant is speaking to me in a very strange accent. He hands me a coffee, and says "That's how we make coffee in these parts."

I walk outside. It's cold, bitterly cold. I appear to be only wearing shorts and a t-shirt. My feet are bare.

I sit at a bench, and look around. I can see the ocean off in the distance, but all around me are fields and farming equipment.

I look down at the table and see a road map. It's either Canada or Alaska. I'm not sure.

I feel cold, alone, broke and scared, but also extremely excited and happy at the same time.

This is one of the most confronting dreams I've ever had. It's not nasty, not scary, but its just making me think so much. Clearly it indicates I've got a burning desire to make a change don't ya think?

It's like transformers, but not as gay...

2009-07-11T21:38:00.002+10:00

Head. Going. To. Explode.

2009-07-07T21:02:00.013+10:00

Too much "must see TV" to choose from tonight...

The finale of homeMADE....

The hot one won as opposed to the really hot one. That is - Jason Sullivan (below left) wins the series;

When it's clear the hotness that is Darren Palmer (below centre) deserved to win;

Of course I have really no idea what their designs actually looked like, so I'm basing my choices on their looks alone. I'm shallow ike that.

Then we have the finale of Australia's Next Top Model Series 5 - I've never seen any of the previous five series before, but got sucked into. The finale came down to the chick with a mouth that looks like a well fisted arsehole, Cassie;

Versus the classic, curvy, well mannered girl who deserves to win - Tahnee.

Thank Christ Tahnee won. A very nice young lady, though the "Curvy" tag is totally undeserved. She's not anorexic, so that makes her fat obviously in the fashion industry.

Then we have the premier of the latest series of Torchwood. For those of you who have no idea, Torchwood is fucking fantastic spin off from Doctor Who (Torchwood is an anagram of Doctor Who... clever hey?) and has more fantastic story telling (no time travel bull shit), and with lots of sexual shenanigans... same sex, bi sex, hetero sex. Lots of man on man kissing.

Loves it.

It stars the very lovely John Barrownman (below centre) - an out Scottish man who married his long time lover not too long ago. And he is rather fetching too.

Watch it... yes it's Sci Fi, but fucking watch it.

Then tomorrow its the premiere of the next season of Project Runway - Fashion designers meets reality TV.

Loves it.

There really hasn't been this much good TV in a long time... I don't think I'll be leaving the house anytime soon.

Bullet points mean never having to construct full sentences

2009-07-06T10:47:00.002+10:00

My weekend in bullet points;

Work drinks Friday night - boozey but not trashed
Nado's is outrageously expensive - $17 for a burger combo is a rip off no matter how boozey you are
Home in bed by 11:30pm. Sleeping the sleep of the drunk and horny.
Saturday shopping excursion - new work shoes, new dressy pink shirt to wear out, new undies
Early Saturday night drinking with strangers at Fat Louies - met one of my readers and his partner. $3 basic spirits, bad karaoke, lots of fun. Nice guys all round.
Dinner at Kalibar on the Valley mall - Three cheese pizza, and a cocktail called "The Bad Boy" - just an alcoholic Cherry Ripe. Very yummy.
Off to the Beat. Already very drunk. Proceed to get drunker.
Off to the Wickham. Very very drunk by this stage, proceed to get even drunker. Make out with hot guy I used to work with.
Off to the Monestary. Get bored, go back to the Wickham.
Pash on with hot work guy again.
Pash on with tall guy called Guy.
Pash on with hot work guy.
Pashing on with both guys until I just got over it and decided to leave.
Decided that I needed to walk home at 4:00am with no jumper.
Got to Bowen Hills station and got the first train.
Slept through my stop.
Found a great bakery on my trek home that had the best sausage rolls and chicken pie ever.
Walked in the door at 6:30am.
Slept until 3:00pm.

I am still feeling the effects today. Want to curl up under my desk, but it ain't gonna happen.

Finally.... someone to blame for all the urine on the floor

2009-06-27T12:33:00.003+10:00

Introducing the newest housemate in the poofter townhouse - Miss Poppi;

She pisses all over the floor and chews on the coffee table, but she's fucking cute.

Worst. Resignation. Ever.

2009-06-24T13:49:00.004+10:00

This is the weakest reason for resigning I've ever received;

"I have to quit because I got engaged last night and I need to sort things out".

Grow some balls man - if you hate working here, just fucking admit it and quit, don't make up some ridiculous reason for wanting to walk.

Meh - can you tell I'm just loving being back in a management role?

Ummm... it ain't Robert Pattinson

2009-06-23T14:29:00.007+10:00

It's been ages since I've looked at my blog stats in Google Analytics, so it was interesting to see that a new referring site has popped up to the top of the list - The Purse Forum - "the Internet's #1 community for handbag lovers and shoulder fashion fetishists!".

Ummmm...

I was a bit confused to see it there, as purses have never been discussed on this blog. Sure, I do carry a man bag with me most days to work, but it's never made it into a blog post before. So I had to do some investigating as to who or what was sending people over to Zeke for handbag related information.

After about an hour trawling through page after page dedicated to the merits of Gucci vs Prada vs Dior vs a steaming pile of dog shit (seriously - who knew there were so many designer purses out there, and that people actually care which is better?), I found a topic discussing Robert Pattinson (you know - the pale looking twink fella from Twilight), and how hot he is (blah). And someone had provided a link to my post on Fernando Verdasco - with the comment "Oh my god I just found the hottest picture of Robert ever".

Seriously, what the fuck?

Just to refresh your memory, this is the very hot Mr Verdasco;

And this is the super-twink Pattinson;

Pattinson reminds me of one of those skinny, malnourished European porn twinks - he just does nothing for me at all.

Now, put Verdasco in a porn, and I'd buy it for sure... straight, gay or bi - it doesn't matter. I'd love to see him in action.

What a revolting development...

2009-06-20T16:23:00.002+10:00

It's Saturday afternoon, I'm sprawled out on the man-couch, relaxing and recovering from a hang over. And while I did get drunk, it was a very different night from my usual debauchery-filled booze fests.

I didn't get absolutely trashed on sambucca shots.

I didn't mix my drinks so much I vomit.

I didn't spill booze all over my new white leather shoes.

I didn't smoke a single cigarette.

I didn't send multiple texts to random past hook ups.

I didn't step onto a dance floor.

I didn't pash on with a single bloke.

I didn't stay out till the break of dawn.

Are you as shocked as me?

I was actually home on the couch by 12:30am. I spent very little money, and I can remember every single part of the night.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Have you been drinking?

2009-06-19T03:23:00.000+10:00

More Micallef comic genius...

Doing the walk of shame at pride fair...

2009-06-15T09:35:00.007+10:00

It's no secret - I like my sex. I'm pretty sure everyone on this planet knows that I have no qualms about going out to a club, finding a man, taking him home and spending several hours performing rectal examinations on each other.

It's wholesome fun for everyone involved!

However there have been a few gentlemen recently who have wanted to take things a bit further than just the one night stand. I'm not talking deep and meaningful relationships after just one shag (well I think one certainly did) but they want to date and get to know me and share and learn all about me and all that crap.

In the past this would have thrilled the absolute hell out of me that a man would actually want to pursue me a bit, and perhaps eventually end up as a, gasp, "boyfriend", but lately these guys just aren't doing it for me on all the levels I need. I'm not talking sexually (well one certainly turned me off- he liked me to gouge my finger nails into his nipples as he reached orgasm. If I drew blood he was extra-happy... yeah that doesn't work for me, sorry), but more on the emotional level. There just hasn't been a great connection with anyone recently. And I think that's what I'm really searching for.

So how do I tell these guys that I'm not interested in taking things further? A quick phone call to say, "It's not you, its me"? God no. I simply disappear from the face of the earth. I stop returning their calls and texts. I delete them from MSN, I block them from Gaydar. I just do the total silent treatment, and pretend like they never existed.

Asshole.

I hate it when blokes do it to me, yet I seem to have fallen into the easy habit of just waiting til they get the hint, then going on my merry way and forgetting they ever existed.

That was until Saturday afternoon when I attended the Birsbane Pride Fair in Musgrave Park. Pretty much every time I turned around there was a man that I had slept with and then stopped talking too standing behind me. It was actually quite embarrassing.

On the front gate was "The Nipple Twister", then in the beer tent I saw "baldy back hair" and he was actually talking to "Priscilla Queen of Retail". Over in the queue for the toilets I saw "Bad in Bed" and then when getting some fairy floss I got served by "Hung Bottom Twink".

And I nodded and smiled at every single one of them.

And it got to me thinking... I have very few gay male friends. Well none really. All of these guys that I have ditched could actually have turned out to be mates, yet I simply push them away and try to avoid them. There are a couple of guys who I do talk to, but they really are ex's and there's always an undercurrent of sexual tension (probably just me being horny). It would be nice to develop a couple of friendships with gay guys that isn't based on alcohol consumption or the fact that we have seen each other naked.

But then again, I struggle to make new friends no matter what their gender or sexual orientation. Apparently I can be a tough nut to crack, and people often think I'm aloof and rude, when really I'm just extremely shy and don't know how to react in certain social situations.

I did have a great day though... mostly spent talking to lesbians. For some reason I get along with them really well.

The Brownish Bomber

2009-06-14T15:12:00.005+10:00

Shaun Micallef is a comic genius (as long as you ignore his horrible short-lived legal sitcom "Welcher & Welcher"), with his best character ever being Milo Kerrigan. The former boxer turned weather man, is an absolute crack up. Enjoy;

Ramsay - Top or Bottom?

2009-06-11T15:00:00.001+10:00

This is an interesting side note in the whole Tracey Grimshaw vs Gordon Ramsay "Lesbian Pig Battle" that has been raging since the weekend - he was once arrested for toilet naughtiness in 1993.

From the couriermail.com.au;

Ramsay's alleged "lesbian" comment had opened the door to rumours about his own sexuality, sparked by a toilet arrest in 1993.

Ramsay was arrested with two other male chefs in a public toilet at London's Green Park tube station in March 1993 and cautioned for gross indecency.

"We were drunk, very silly and all of us were messing around in the toilet," Ramsay said today. We were taken in by the police, we all got our knuckles rapped but its nothing to do with homosexuality."

Nothing to do with homosexuality? The police don't take you away for cautioning for just pissing on the floor of a public restroom Mr Ramsay. You must have been doing something indecent (ie - extremely erotic) with those other gentlemen's peni for it to be recorded on your file.

So do you reckon he's a top or a bottom? I could imagine him in the middle of a spit roast. At least he couldn't complain so much if he had his mouth full of cock.

What? No more rectal exams?

2009-06-11T12:03:00.005+10:00

Good news everybody! I got my results back from my last round of tests and it appears my naughty prostate has returned to its normal functions. Yay!

The best news of all is that I do not need to go in for a biopsy on my special little pleasure giver - well not yet. My PSA results are still is a bit high for my age group, but it has significantly dropped in the past two weeks. It means I still need to go and have regular check ups with my GP to make sure it doesn't progress any further.

Hmmm... regular rectal exams

It's worse than the swine flu pandemic...

2009-06-09T23:14:00.008+10:00

It's time to go hunting... it's time to kill the fucking blue bird that is "Twitter".

Twitter is the evil that is killing blogging as we know it. It is sapping our creativity 140 characters at a time. And as such, it is making the blogsphere one very boring place indeed.

Its quite simple really... the more witty you try and be in your twitter posts, and the more regularly you update your twitter account, the harder it will be to sustain your creative genius and provide a quality post on your own proper blogger account.

I liken it to a gentleman's orgasm. Sure, most blokes can have more than one in a day. The more talented ones will have 7, 8, maybe even 9 "releases" in a 24 hour period, but the problem is the first one will be nice and strong, but the second and subsequent ones will take a little bit longer to produce, and the end result will never be as satisfying as that first one. And by the time you finally spurt out that last one you will be so drained that it actually hurts, and very little if anything of worth will come out. But when you awaken the next morning and realise you need to produce the same number of samples, you know its going to be a tough day.

So instead of producing one great, imaginative and well written blog post a day (or even every second day), the quality posts are being diluted by micro-blogging multiple times a day. It just can't be sustained.

I used to be in awe of my fellow twitterers when i first started logging in when I got home from work. Such creativity, such imagination. SUCH BULLSHIT! Have you actually read the shit these people are putting up for the world to see? I don't care what you had for lunch. I don't care that you almost stood in dog shit. I DON'T CARE WHAT THE FUCK ASHTON KUCHER IS DOING AT ANY GIVEN TIME. EVER. Jesus Christ people, get a fucking life.

And of course I tried my best to fit in with all the other tweeters out there. While I tried to make my tweets edgy and imaginative, they just became an exact copy of my status updates on Facebook, and that's just fucking lazy (Yes - I'm looking at you Mr Sky Hooker).

And while you yourself may not "tweet" on a regular basis, or may not even have an account, you can pretty much guarantee that at least 80% of your favourite bloggers do, and if you're anything like me, you are inspired to write by those on your blog roll. So if they are investing too much time in micro-blogging, and aren't producing some ripping yarns on their pages, why should you?

This is a call to arms. If you love your blogging community you must act now to save it. Delete your Twitter account. Delete the Twitter widget from your sidebar. Delete any requests from friends who want you to follow them immediately. Delete, ignore, burn any reference to twitter you come across, and heckle and insult those who refuse to comply.

Twitter is evil and must be stopped, or life as we know it will cease to exist.

Its all up to you.

Can you ever just be whelmed?

2009-06-09T10:31:00.003+10:00

I'm in apathy city right now. If I were to put a positive spin on things I would say I'm just going with the flow, maintaining the status quo, but I'm not. It seems I really don't care what is going on a round me and I'm just too lazy to make the changes needed to get my life back on track.

I lost my higher duties contract at the end of March, and took a fairly sharp cut in my pay. But I have not applied for a single job since then to try and get back to the position I was in.

Lazy.

I'm barely putting in any effort to lose the last 8 kilos that I keep harping on about in previous posts. If I weren't locked into a contract with my gym, I probably wouldn't be doing any exercise at all.

Lazy.

With my recent health problems I should be breaking the old habit of getting trashed and hooking up with random blokes - especially when I got so trashed on Friday night and hooked up with the "Nice Guy" again. It really isn't doing my body and my state of mind any good at all.

Idiot.

So what can I do to get out of this major, deep sided rut I've got myself into? Well I'm thinking a change of city may be in order. I've done it once before (packed up and left Toowoomba and my life took a major turn for the better). Could it work again?

Sydney? Melbourne? Maybe even Cairns? Who knows? A change of scenery, a change to my circle of friends (as much as I love them all) may just force me to take some direction in life.

But is this just me wanting to run away from my problems here? Is it a lazy solution to me being lazy (even though its not easy to move city)? If I actually pulled my finger out at work, I could force myself into a new job here. If I even bothered to look at the job sites, and took the time to do an application I might actually succeed in finding something (I actually have a rather impressive resume).

All I know is I don't want to rush this. Giving up a permanent government job (no matter how much of a pay cut I took) in this economic climate is not a wise move, especially when I know I'm just being lazy. Moving to a city that is probably facing worse unemployment than my current locale is equally unwise.

But it is in the back of my mind. It it will sit there for a little bit longer.

If things haven't changed by Christmas I will revisit the proposition.

Thoughts?

Everybody's doing it...

2009-06-02T22:35:00.002+10:00

Is this the latest viral you tube sensation? Probably. Yes I am a sheep for posting it, but it is very clever...

Thanks to the 50 kajillion other blogs who have also posted this vid.

This is surely an afront to God...

2009-06-02T16:25:00.005+10:00

Chicken in a can...
Not just chicken, a whole fucking chicken.

I'm having trouble imagining how big the can is that contains said whole chicken, but no matter what the size, this is the most unappetising thing I have seen today.

This is the finished, roasted chook, cooked as per the tin's instructions. It looks like its just crawling in disease;

Go over to I Hate My Message Board to see all the gruesome pics and read the full review.

Then go vomit.

It always funnier in russian...

2009-05-29T19:14:00.000+10:00

Laughed? I just about wet my pants...

Home Blah...

2009-05-28T12:00:00.000+10:00

You all know I love my reality TV, especially when hot men are involved, even more so when they are doing one of my most favourite gay things... interior design.

So I should really love HomeMade on channel nine. Ten interior designers all battling it out to renovate people's homes and change their lives forever....

Blah blah fucking blah.

This show is a load of shit, but it should be great. 5 guys, 5 girls get to redesign some run down homes on a tight time frame with a $50,000 budget. But it is so unbelievably boring. I think it has something to do with them stretching it out over two nights a week - there's just no sense of urgency or pressure, even though the teams are working to tight deadlines.

Its also very obvious they have picked the designers based on the "eye candy" factor. Normally this wouldn't worry me, but with the success of Master Chef on Ten, with its greatly diverse casting, HomeMade just looks shallow in comparison.

Now lets get to the good part... the men.

This one is my favourite... Mr Darren Palmer;

Nicely muscled, nice amount of chest hair and in Sunday night's episode they showed him shaving his own hair without a shirt on. Pity he's straight.

Next is Jason Sullivan;

The publicity shot from the site doesn't do him much justice, so here's a shirtless one;

Damn it being so small, but you get the gist of the hotness going on... Blondes don't usually do it for me, but I'd still say yes.

I missed Tuesday's elimination episode... and I really couldn't care less. One of the skanky no talent whore women went home anyway. I hope the next challenge is at a nudist colony or something... that would really make it a much more interesting show.

Yellow River by I P Freely

2009-05-27T19:44:00.001+10:00

Good news everybody! My catheter was removed yesterday morning and my bladder function has returned to normal. Yay! Urinating has never bought me so much joy and happiness.

It was rather a surreal experience... me sitting in the Urology clinic waiting room, surrounded by 70 year old men, waiting to have my tubes and bag removed.

I won't go into all the gory details, but needless to say having two nurses watch you take your first piss in over a week is really nerve wracking.

Fortunately I haven't done any long term damage to my bladder, but I do need to keep an eye on things and have regular checkups with my doctor.

Unfortunately, my prostate still isn't quite right. My 2nd PSA test (Prostate Specific Antigen - apparently its a common thing to look at for cancer pre-cursors) came back abnormally high for my age. And with my prostate still enlarged and my family history of cancer in that area, they are a little bit concerned.

A 31 year old man just doesn't get an infection in that area... it was a little embarrassing having to ask the Urologist if all the vigorous bum fun I've had recently may have been the cause. He was very noncommittal on that answer, and tended to look at the floor while not really answering my question. I think I managed to embarrass him.

So it looks like I may have to have a biopsy in the very near future. Hopefully the drugs I'm taking will work a miracle before I go back to see the specialist again next week.

Once again... I'm way too young for this shit.

It's not a tumour...

2009-05-27T10:59:00.005+10:00

I have a very active imagination, which is fine when having naughty alone time in your bedroom and the Internet is down. Not so fine when you get a little snippet of information about your ex and you jump to the conclusion that he was cheating on you....

So I got an email this morning from "the nice guy who doesn't want a relationship" with the subject "Brisbane is a small town". We email quite regularly and looks like we are becoming mates which is all good really. Anyway, he basically told me that based on our previous conversations he thinks he may have hooked up with my ex (The Man) and was feeling bad about it, and didn't want to hide it from me.

At first I had a bit of a laugh. The gay scene in Brisbane is incredibly small and everyone has slept with every one's ex. Or so I've been told. It's the only gay community I know, so I have nothing to compare it to. So it's not unexpected to learn your ex's may hook up sometime, or even start going out together. He had no reason to feel bad about it at all.

But when I re-read his email, it sounded like they had hooked up about 2 weeks before I had done the deed and dumped him over the phone. And this is where my imagination went into over drive.

I spent the next 2 hours waiting for the nice guy to respond with some more details about the supposed event, and just about went crazy trying to work out the possibilities. Things like "On this Friday night he didn't want to see me, so that must have been the night they hooked up. But what if it was more than once? What if it was every time he went out drinking without me? What he if was shagging his housemate as well?" and so on and so on.

So my neurosis continued to build and build and build until the nice guy came saying the guy he hooked up with was about 5 foot 10, and 25.

My ex is 6 foot 4 and 40.

Morale of the story... a headache may just be a headache, it's not always a tumour.

Baaaaa

2009-05-26T11:11:00.003+10:00

I'm such a sheep.

I have joined "twitter".

Damn_you_zeke77

Add me. Follow me. Get bored and delete me.

I want the classics!

2009-05-24T11:10:00.003+10:00

I love Kitty Flanagan. I loved her work in the pommy sketch show, um, "The Sketch Show", and this is one of my favourite skits;

It's even funnier in Russian don't you think?

Things I have learnt in the past seven days...

2009-05-19T12:41:00.003+10:00

This is probably gonna fall into the category of "Too much info thanks Benji"... but suck it up.

Waiting a week to go and see someone about why you can't piss properly is not smart.
Drinking 15 or so beers in a session, knowing that you can't piss properly, is down right stupid.
Waking up after 15 beers and not being able to piss at all is scary.
Hospital gowns do provide a modicum of modesty, and cover your arse just fine.
A female doctor doing a prostate exam is not in the slightest bit erotic
Catheter insertion is not fun.
Catheter removal is less fun.
Taking a piss after the catheter has been removed is fucking horrible. I actually screamed.
Going back to the hospital two days later and going through the whole thing again because you woke up this morning not being able to piss is a fucking nightmare.

So yes, I am currently at home, with a fucking catheter inserted in my bladder because I'm having some issues going pee pee. It looks like an infected prostate has caused the issues, but they are concerned about me not passing urine for almost a day, and may have over stretched my bladder.

So this fucking piss tube gets to stay shoved up my urethra and stick uncomfortably into my bladder for the next couple of days until I go back to out patients and they check to see if I can actually control my urine flow. And a lovely little bag gets to stay strapped to my leg and catch all of piss that come out. How fucking sexy does that sound?

I'm too young for this sort of shit to be going on.

Yes! I would love this man...

2009-05-19T08:56:00.000+10:00

I have two new crushes... both thanks to a non-shitty film starring old lesbian-faced Jim Carrey - "Yes Man".

First is the female love interest - Zooey Deschanel;

She's got a great sexy/cute/out there vibe going on in the film. She kind of reminds of Maggie Gyllenhaal in "Stranger Than Fiction" - strong but soft at the same time. If she keeps putting in performances like this, she could very well be another woman I'll turn straight for.

Then there's the "best friend" - Bradley Cooper;

He played the jackass fiance in Wedding Crashers, but in this film he just smoulders. I think there's a bit of a Ralph/Joseph Feinnes vibe going on with him.

Hmmm... shirtless Bradley Cooper.

Overall, its not a bad film to watch. Loads of real LOL moments throughout... its been a long time since I've seen that in a Jim Carey movie.

Is there a really a Dog up there?

2009-05-18T14:45:00.002+10:00

So I've been doing some soul searching of late. My rampant boozing and excessive random sex parties are starting to leave me feeling empty and alone. I found this great site that has answered all of my philosophical and theological questions;

The Official God FAQ

I think there's something in that for all of us...

Worst. Kiss. Ever.

2009-05-14T09:41:00.002+10:00

So we were supposed to meet at 9:00 at the Wickham but he didn't show. I wait til 9:30, which was 30 minutes longer than I should have.

I get home and 11:30 he calls me "I got stuck at work, sorry" - but he sounds trashed. "I really want to meet you though".

Hmmm... his profile pics were very very hot, and it might be fun.

So I get back in the car and go and meet him. He's profile pictures did him no justice at all. Tall, dark and handsome is really an insult to him. He was so fucking hot.

And he could hardly stand up.

He was all over me, but kept telling me how his ex was bad in bed, and how he had fucked the bar guy last weekend, and how he's sick of guys perving on him in the looker room at the gym.

Yawn.

It was late, I was getting bored. This was not worth the drive back in.

Then he leans in for a kiss. Ok, maybe this was worth the drive back in. Kissing this hot Adonis of a man... this will be great.

Oh wait. Its not.

It was like his tongue got an erection and he was trying to fuck my mouth with it.

Worst. Kiss. Ever.

I said I had to go to the toilet, and just went home.

Got no friends. Got no lover.

2009-05-09T22:16:00.005+10:00

I'm fucking loving this now song by Placebo - For What It's Worth. It's one of those songs that is made better by its video (Single Ladies by Beyonce is another).

Things I love about this clip....

Brian Molko is so bloody androgynous these days. He so looks like a 40 year old lesbian... and I suspect that's exactly what he wants to look like.
The drummer is so fucking hot (but he is the only straight one in the band. (Random fact all drummers are hot)
The labels on all the people - it's a bit reminiscent of "Stranger Than Fiction" with Will Ferrel, and I love it.

It's now on high rotation on my iPod... I love it muchly.

Where's wally?

2009-05-09T08:13:00.000+10:00

Or more to the point... where's the shamelessly drunk trashbag who spent all evening last Sunday night consuming vodka redbull, black sambucca shots and fire engines with a death wish, all the while drunkenly texting the nice guy in a vain attempt to get him to fluffy so he make out with him, before ditching his friends to go home, but ended up trashed on the dance floor making out with randoms until 5:00am?

Can you find him? Oh and maybe my dignity too...

I deserve the nobel prize for this...

2009-05-08T11:05:00.004+10:00

After being a little bit down yesterday, and after reading some blog posts of some people who are doing it much tougher than me, I have developed a formula to help anyone get through the tough times.

1. Buy a Baked Jamaican Chocolate Cheese Cake from the Cheese Cake shop (or substitute it for any non-low fat sweet treat you prefer);

2. Get a steaming hot cup of coffee;

3. Sit down with no less than one friend;

4. Eat your cake, drink your coffee

5. Discuss life.

I have just completed this simple 5 step process with my work colleagues and am feeling much better for it.

I will save the world. One cheesecake at a time. I am your new Jesus.

Big hugs...

2009-05-07T12:38:00.003+10:00

After my last sooky la la post, I just read Phishez's blog and feel like a jerk.

My life is fine and I'm just being a cunt about nothing.

I hope she gets some good news very very soon.

I'm all discombobulated...

2009-05-07T09:58:00.002+10:00

I've got an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. It's a knot of frustration, anxiety, sadness, and anger all mixed together.

Work is shitting me - a million and one requests for HR support that everyone thinks will be actioned immediately when in reality you can go fuck yourself. Oh, and don't bother trying to tear me a new arsehole because you hired someone without the proper authority and now she hasn't been paid in 6 weeks. NOT MY FAULT YOU CAN'T FOLLOW DIRECTIVES.

I'm driving a million miles a day at the moment - mum and dad are away for three weeks so I have to go out to feed the dog. I've been staying over night, but it takes me almost two hours to get work in the morning, so I'm frazzled before I even get here.

Men are confusing me, well one in particular - drunken comments left on a post, leading to drunken flirty texts, and then general chit chat emails, with a bit more flirting thrown in. I want him, and I think he wants me, but where to from here? I'm no good at playing it cool.

I just want everything to be sweet and easy and cool. Is that too much to ask for?

Yes... because Jesus hates me for being a poof.

(And yes, I know if I want to be happy, I need to make my own happiness, take charge of my life, and all that shit… just let me vent).

The lazy man's blog post... a meme

2009-05-05T16:01:00.004+10:00

26 shit house things. Thanks to The Mutant for giving me something to do.

A - Age: 32 this year. Enjoying my age right now, and even though I'm rather bald and getting greyer, I still seem to be able to find twinks to pash on dance floors around town.

B - Bed size: A dodgey old double... it was the bed my parents bought for me when I was 15, and it didn't get used for 10 years when I lived in Toowoomba. It's time to upgrade... probably will use my K-Rudd money when it comes.

C - Chore you hate: Ironing. I hate it so much. I tend to iron in my jocks or nude and have often come very very close to burning my doodle.

D - Dog’s name: Rosie Pup. A big fat Labrador who turns eight this year, but everyone calls her Rosie Pup still.

E - Essential start to your day: The old triple "S" treat - shit, shower, shave.

F - Favorite colour: I go through phases... right now I'm back into black t-shirts all the time.

G - Gold or Silver: Gold gold silver silver chain chain sale sale (who remembers that Michael Hill Jeweller ad?)

H - Height: 185cm (6 foot 1 inch) - perfect height for Kez to lick my nipples.

I - Instruments: Trumpet to AMEB level 6 and Electronic Organ (yes, it was super gay) to AMEB level 5. I was so into my music that I had intended to go to the conservatorium and study to become a high school music teacher.

J- Job: Today - HR bitch (piss me off and I'll accidentally cancel your pay), tomorrow Senior Customer Service Manager (piss me off and I'll kill you). Yes... I'm starting a new job tomorrow - only temporarily though.

K – Kids: Unless arseholes start menstruating, I'm not getting anyone pregnant.

L - Living arrangements: Brand new three bed town house with two poofters in the front room, and me in one of the back rooms entertaining all my gentlemen callers.

M - Mum’s name: Monica... my sister and I have combined mum and dad's (Donald) names to refer to them as a single entity - Monald. But you have to say it like you are retarded.

N - Nicknames: I refer to myself as Benji quite a lot these days, and I really like it when people refer to me by my surname "Duce" - but only when they can pronounce it right (hint - there is no "J" sound in there).

O - Overnight hospital stay other than birth: Nil, nada, nix. Though I have been in the emergency room heaps, I've never stayed over night.

P - Pet Peeve: Slow walking people, people that push in, undies that ride up the butt, queeny twinks, twinky queens, bad drag queens, over-priced sambucca shots, vegans, vagina's.

Q - Quote from a movie: "I love lamp!" or perhaps "LOUD NOISES" from the best movie ever Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy. The character of Brick Tambland is the best ever.

R – Robot or Human?: Robot hookers please.

S - Siblings: Older brother, younger sister. We are all mentally retarded.

T - Time you wake up: As late as possible. I am not an early riser (unless there is another body in bed with me then I like to wake up early and have a good shag, then fall asleep for a few more hours).

U- Underwear: Boxer Briefs - tight shorty things that cover my massive inner thighs but make my package stand out nicely.

V - Vegetable you dislike: I hate raw celery. I'd rather stick it up my arse and let it absorb the calories.

W - Ways you run late: Sleeping in. A former boss knew to never have meetings before 9:00am, as I would never be there on time.

X - X-rays you’ve had: Both feet, nose (after I got bashed at an Ipswich railway station as a teen), I've had CT scan of spine and head, and full head and lumbar MRI's. MRI was like being in a very loud coffin. I was too fat to fit in it properly and could hardly breath.

Y - Yummy food you make: Tiramisu - I use scotch liqueur instead of Kahlua, and its fucking fantastic.

Z - Zoo favourite: The one with the tits (get it? Zoo? As in Zoo Magazine? I give up).

You are going to be very popular in the prison showers...

2009-05-01T08:56:00.002+10:00

Tattoo's can look fantastic. Sadly, most look like shit. Remember tampon tatt? Well I think this one is even worse;
A Pegasus fucking a unicorn smoking a joint in front of a gay rainbow?

Completely fucked up.

(Thanks to Joe.My.God for the image)

You're cute... but what's wrong with you?

2009-04-30T13:23:00.004+10:00

It's that time of year. The seasons change, the weather gets that little bit cooler, snuggling in bed no longer results in sweaty stained bedsheets. Yes - It's the time of year I run along to the free sexual health clinic and have my gay man checks done.

I rocked up on a Monday morning and joined the queue of people deciding to find out their fate.

As I was sitting there in the waiting room trying not to stare at the scab-covered transvestite hooker in the corner when a rather tall, nice looking, sharply dressed man walked in and sat directly opposite me. He had the shaved head, the goatee, and the killer eyes. Our eyes met and we shared a smile.

Hmmm...

Wait a second, is it a good idea to even consider the worthiness of a man in a sexual health clinic waiting room? What if he's there for something really really bad? Anal warts? Pissing blood? Fourteen dead hamsters from a Richard Gere party still stuck up his bum?

But then again, he could just be there for his STD screens like me?

Before I could ponder if subtle flirting was a bad option, I was called into to see the female nurse and have my willy poked and prodded, and have swabs taken of every possible orifice. Apparently I'm quite good at accepting the throat swab - got to love having no gag reflex!

But as fate would have it I bumped into cute man in the toilets when I had to supply a urine sample. Unfortunately he called out to me from the next cubicle "I don't know about you, but I'm pissing razor blades here".

Hmmm... not a wise place to cruise men I'd say.

PS - the results came back all negative. Joy!

PPS - Yes I know it can take several months for some results to show up, but it's still a minor victory.

My liver is about to file for divorce...

2009-04-27T09:27:00.004+10:00

You know you've had a big weekend when;

You wake up Saturday morning to discover you have sambucca smeared all over your fingers and a big smudge around your lips.
You recall making out with your ex's twin, wondering if he's just as well hung as his brother.
You ditch your current housemate on Friday night, and your former housemate on Saturday night in favour of more random pashing on the dance floor.
Your breakfast venue of choice for both Saturday and Sunday morning's was the Macca's on the valley mall... and the same staff member served you both times.
You discover the white $100 t-shirt a friend lent you to wear on Saturday night is now covered in purple sambucca stains.
You meet a friend for lunch in the Valley on Sunday, but you haven't even been home yet so you're still wearing last nights sambucca stained t-shirt looking trashed as you wander around the mall (and yet you still fit in)
Your friends post pictures of you on Facebook that you don't even remember posing for.
You wake up on Sunday morning with your jeans wrapped around your head, facing the wrong way on the bed, and it's not your bed, and you have no idea where you are, and there's a naked man in there with you, and he's actually quite hot.

It was no good for the budget, but fuck, I had fun both nights.

And the winner is.... a complete fucking wanker

2009-04-23T09:13:00.007+10:00

Oh Cleo Bachelor of the year! What the fuck have you done?

How can you let this hipster doofus be crowned the most eligible bachelor in all the land?
Axel Whitehead has won the annual competition. Axel Whitehead, the man who got fired from his gig as host of Video Hits, because he flashed his cock at the ARIAs. Axel Whitehead, one of the first talented dropkicks to be booted off the first series of Australian Idol.

Axel fucking Whitehead.

I am disgusted.

Take a look at last year's winner;
The rather fetching Jason Dundas from Getaway. Hmmm. Still not quite hot enough, but compare to Axel bumfuck Whitehead he's a million times better.

Whitehead (isn't that a type of pimple?) should never leave the house without a paper bag on his head.

Or maybe a plastic bag would be a preferred option.

I'm ballooning more than Oprah at an all you can eat rib bar...

2009-04-20T14:04:00.005+10:00

I'm so sick of my weight fluctuations. Why can't I just keep going down, instead of this bullshit where I'll drop under 95kg, then back up an extra kilo, then down 1.4, and then up a little bit more?

But each drop does seem to take me down closer to my goal. I just want to be 90kg. It's only 4.4kg fucking kilos to go. Why does it have to be so hard?

Because Jesus hates me, that's why?

My Easter weekend of total boozy debauchery wouldn't have helped (even though I didn't have a single Easter egg). So much beer and scotch and sambucca really isn't gonna help the weight loss.

And then there was all the recovery McDonald's after each nights piss up. Hmmm... hangover double quarter pounder.

Oh.... but I will prevail. I will lose these massive love handles. I will be more tone and less jiggly. I will no longer be embarrassed to take my shirt off in front of strangers.

I will be thinner.

Now... time for afternoon tea. Where's my sausage roll and large ice coffee?

Nerds are sexy...

2009-04-19T13:56:00.005+10:00

Two great new shows have started on pay TV in the last couple of weeks. Both are very different in their story telling, and challenge the basic notion of TV drama, and both star a couple of nerdy/geeky hot guys.

First off is Chuck, staring yummy Zachary Levi
Chuck works as a computer support guy in an electronics superstore when he accidentally absorbs the combined secrets of the CIA and NSA... making him potentially the most dangerous man in the world. He gets caught in a lot of James Bond type adventures and of course, manages to screw them up because he is no secret agent.

Its lots of fun, and Mr Levi is all kinds of hot (he actually played Kipp in "Less than Perfect" - all preppy and slicked back hair. I like him both ways). Defiantly worth a look.

Second is Pushing Daisies with the very sexy sounding Lee Pace ( he has the best voice);
Lee plays Ned "The Pie Maker" who has the ability to bring back people from the dead with a single touch. But if he touches them again, they die, this time forever. He has a great little scheme going on with a PI where they bring back the dead and then collect the reward money.

Things go off course when he brings back his first ever love from the dead- Chuck (a chick) and they start falling for each other - but alas, they can never touch.

Pushing Daisies is very very different TV. It was originally going to screen on Channel Nine, but its far too "different" to be shown on that network. It has some very bizarre narration and some of the plot twists are very bizarre. But I like it.

Two nerdy hot men, two very different TV shows.

I love having pay TV.

I fucking love you too Grandma...

2009-04-18T12:45:00.002+10:00

So my grandmother has been hospitalised for the past nine weeks and I went up for my first visit last night (she's a fair distance away)... I expected some grief over the lack of visits, but what I got was some down-right passive-aggressive bitchery.

Some gems over the hour included;

"You're balder than your poor dead grandfather"
"You've gotten fat"
"Is the hair you've got left going grey?"
"You should really do something about your double chin"

She's always been tactless, but she usually reserves that kind of vitriol for the grand daughters.

Can't wait to visit her again... not.

I love technology....

2009-04-16T18:08:00.004+10:00

Sigh. The last two and a bit weeks of life without the Internet have been hell. No blogging, no random chats with men I'm never gonna meet (apart from Mr Power Bottom of Inner North Brisbane - that's an in joke btw), and my quota of porn.

So it was with glee that I stumbled across this nifty little site that combines half naked men and iPhone technology... Guys With iPhones.

Behold technology in all it's glory;

Loads and loads and loads of hot muscular men, some doodle, lots of bums.

Yum.

Enjoy.

So much alcohol...

2009-04-14T08:44:00.003+10:00

So much has been happening, but so little writing has occurred to keep you all informed.

The house move is well and truly over, but we still have no Internet at home, so posting is hard.

I've lost my higher duties contract, so now have to face the reality of living on $432 less per fortnight. Benji has to learn how to budget.

I've had the biggest, booziest weekend ever - went out Thursday, Friday and Sunday nights and drank myself stupid (which doesn't help my budget).

It's been a weekend of ex's - Friday night's party was at Greg's ("The Man") place - I haven't seen him since I broke up with him in November. It was nervous at the thought of seeing him (I generally don't talk to any ex), but it was a fun night.

Sunday night, however, was horribly trash-tastic, as I managed to win a $500 prize pack to the Fluffy night club up here, including a $200 bar tab. In short, I bumped into the really nice guy who I dated briefly a few weeks ago, and he proceeded to jump my drunken bones with some of the most shocking PDA's in front of my friends ever. IT WAS FANTASTIC. I recall him pinning me down in the VIP booth and straddling me with wild abandon, and then dancing on the main floor with his hand firmly shoved down the front of my pants, followed by a fantastic night of sex, and then more sex all Monday morning. He still doesn't want anything serious. Damn it.

And probably the best thing lately has been that I've mended bridges with my old housemate. I shouldn't have let things sit and fester for so long, as I've really missed her. She's been my partner in crime again lately, and so very happy to have her back in my life.

Regular writing will recommence soon...

Ever hear of a rolling brown out?

2009-04-03T14:36:00.002+10:00

Is it a prerequisite that all teen sex comedy's have the following;

Nerdy cute looking virgin boy?
Arrogant fuck wit over sexed older brother that makes nerdy virgin's life hell?
Nerdy virgin's female best friend that he has a crush on?
Nerdy virgin's male best friend who is butt fucking ugly but seems to have no trouble getting all the sex he wants?
And the ubiquitous road trip to go find some skanky internet girl to go lose nerdy virgin boy's virginity?

Well yes, yes they do, and Sex Drive is no different from the rest of the sex comedies that have come out since American Pie.

I got a copy of the extended version of Sex Drive to review... and oh my god I have struggled to watch this load of crap.

But after I got over the first 20 minutes of so called character development, this actually got stupidly good.

All the usual sex, poo, wee, and vomit jokes a side, they have actually managed to make a fairly good and unique DVD experience.

There is so much random nudity – a naked woman will casually jog down the street, a naked man juggling at the carnival etc. Lots of boobs, bush and cock for everyone.

I also love how they've kept all the bloopers and outtakes actually in the movie. There's quite a few scenes where the cast start cracking up and you can hear the crew giggling.

The funniest part of the whole thing though is when the Male Best Friend picks a trailer trash hottie and she handcuffs him to the bed and asks “Ever hear of a rolling brown out?” and then proceeds to shit all over his chest. So classy, yet so funny.

Overall, Sex Drive, was much more fun then I expected. It'd be great with a six pack of beer, and a few stupid friends to watch it with.

Freebie Alert...

Thanks to Sony, I've got a copy of Sex Drive to give away..... Tell me your favourite teen sex comedy one liner/scene for a chance to get your hands on this stellar piece of cinema.