NEW AND IMPROVED IN 2009

Well you wouldn't fucken read about it would you? Well actually that clearly isn't the case, cos apparently you are reading about it, so what a fucken useless thing to start this entry off with. No doubt there will be more of that to come. Anyway, it's clear that one comment from the delightful spit and vinegar is all it takes for me to continue writing and completely spring clean my blog. Other mother from a far away land, thanks for the encouragement and I promise to be more proactive...how many fucken times have I said that? I've changed my template which is surely the blog equivalent of buying a new dress and making myself up real pretty like. Although going by my track record I'll wear this dress for fucken eons, forget to change and wash it and end up walking around clinging to the memories of when it was fresh out the box and not covered in body sweat, food remnants, sex junk and drool....mmmm classy. I've also added links of some of my favourite and less pornographic links, a new picture of me trying to hold my brain in my head and this entry. Fuck me I so deserve a gold star, or a ribbon, or a shitty arse trophy or even one of those medals that goes black within a week of exposing it to the air.

It's just after midnight on a Saturday night and I've got music videos on in the background (Bjork is singing about Human Behaviour as I type this) which is very convenient. Why? Well as it happens, down in the street below me, I can hear miniscule dicked fuckwits revving their car engines and squealing their tyres. Some cock snap just yelled at his girlfriend about being a fucken slut and a car alarm is going off in the distance. Living in inner city suburbs rocks huh? I so have to go out and buy a microphone so I can record the domestics that happen in the early hours of the morning. It's like Days of Our Lives on ICE with a speed chaser and an itchy groin thrown in just to push them over the edge. I'm officially an uncle, a big gay uncle at that too. Little Eli Joseph is so fucken cute I can't wait to corrupt him and do his head in with stories when he is old enough to listen. I am so proud of my little brother and his beautiful wife and so excited about their future raising Eli, they will be amazing parents and he will be an incredible child. I'm a few weeks away from another month in London with my tasty biscuit Martin. We are planning to get hitched if the intent to marry visa comes through and the waiting periods can be worked out. At this stage we will have the last 3 days of my holiday within which to say our I do's so it will be tight but who the fuck cares.

I sit surrounded by sugar free products, my heavy meat eating diet is back on and has been for 3 weeks and I've lost 7 kilos. It's virtually sugar free but fake sugar items are allowed so I make mouth love to bottles of Pepsi Max and Vanilla Diet Coke and suck the fuck out of any lolly stupid enough to claim its without sugar but liable to induce explosive bum reactions. Fun huh? I've also returned to the gym and am sweating it up with all the people I envy and ogle, plus I'm walking to and from work virtually everyday which is 4.1 kilometres each way. As a result I've become a purveyor of a variety of inner thigh injuries from chafe to ingrown hairs and all sorts of other things that two sweaty, meaty, hairy thighs can create when you add friction. Nearly two hours of rubbing and I'm pretty much creating enough inner thigh energy to power the electricity grid for a small house of refugees in a third world country. Perhaps that's the answer to the global warming and obesity problem. Rig all us fatties up to a series of treadmills, patch into our thigh action and see the planet glow from a few planets away. Anyway that's enough for this entry, will be back soon to add more I promise...enjoy.