I think there is too
much significance given
to just a number.
Will it really make
me reflect on what has gone
and what is to come?
Only in terms of
how much they have grown, and their
best is yet to come.
With a new look – I hope you like it.
Two things have changed considerably over the seven years since I began this blog, and even in the 12 months since I last made a few serious attempts at posting:
What hasn’t changed is my commitment to the idea of Hegemony Heights. We still live in a world where commonsense often isn’t, and normal is a construct. Thus endeth the lecture.
In the refresh, I’ve added some conversations and made them a separate menu item even though they’re all still listed under the Home blog page. These conversations are another thing I’ve realised I enjoy writing most about – the quirky vignettes of humanity that leave smiles and occasionally tears. Under Bumper Edition, I’ve added a sub-page just for stick figure families (as you do), and finally, there are also some enhanced features down the right-hand side-bar including a Search function.
Happy reading. And all feedback welcome.
The man behind the counter was in his twenties, with a softly handsome face accentuated by some very light powder and a hint of eye makeup. I’d never seen him before in my life.
JB: Do you have any more gift boxes?
Man: Well, only some pink ones left over from Valentine’s Day.
JB: That won’t work, as these are blue and black (canisters), for my sisters-in-law.
Man: Do you get on with them?
JB (taken aback a little): My sisters-in-law? Yes!
Man: I don’t get on so well with mine. We’re okay, but she can be a bit abrasive.
Like, the other day she said, “When [husband] and I have kids, you’re going to have to tone it down a bit.”
So I said, “What do you mean?”
And she said, “You know…”
And I said, “No, I don’t. Say it.”
And she said, “The gay thing.”
JB (still taken aback): Oh. That’s tough. Cos you’re you.
Man: I don’t think I’m particularly over the top. I’m the only one in the family who’s held down steady jobs and doesn’t have a substance abuse problem, so hello sweetheart, I’m the best fucking option the kid’s going to have.
JB (still taken aback): Oh.
Man: I think she’s pissed off because I didn’t come to her hen’s morning tea.
She said, “You may as well come because you’re near enough to one of us.”
Ahh, no, I’m not. I’d rather go to the buck’s party and see all my stripper friends, haha!
JB (still taken aback): Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. I hope you have a nice Christmas.
And I walked out. If that’s what gay young men are dealing with in Australia in 2015, we’ve got a long way to go.
While waiting in line to pay at the petrol station in Albany, a middle-age woman of somewhat dishevelled appearance walked in from the driveway speaking loudly on her phone:
“Who’s driving my Commodore?
If you don’t get out now, I’m calling the cops.
If you don’t get out now, I’m calling the cops!
Don’t ‘okay’ me … d’ya want me to come home and flog the fucken shit out of ya?”
Ah, beautiful Albany.
[Thanks John Bosich for the pic.]
I was walking the dog along the stretch of beach where old local blokes launch and drag in their trusty little tinnies and tubs after an early morning fish in the bay. Two said blokes were pulling in the tub as I walked past them along the water’s edge.
JB: “You catch anything?
Salt 1, smiling: “Enough for lunch.”
JB: “What do you get – herring or whiting?”
Salt 2, conspiratorily, only a metre away: “Crayfish – we’ve got a few pots out there.”
JB, raising her eyebrows: “Very nice! Enjoy”
And I continued on.
And I continued on.
Yeah, I still got it.