Friday, January 27, 2006

Australia Day - Beer, Bikinis and BBQ...

Well a hot day started early and I ambles around the house sent some files and had a chat.
1 hours drive south by south east and BAAM! I was there - The BBQ was in full swing as I let myself in the front door. I emerged into the sunlight of the back yard to be greeted by a lovely laid out lunch table and a view of the pool, people and deck chairs. The pool looked good but my eye strangely wandered to the babes on the opposite side of the pool...
"Great Ooga Mooga!" - Orlando Jones from Evolution
It seems my generous host had forgotten to tell me his sister's friends would be there! Well 4 Bikini clad giggling babes were playing and swimming in the pool and I almost dropped my beers and salad and said 'It's christmas... it's really Christmaaas!!'
I was introduced all round and because of the horrible heat stripped off my shirt and dived into the cold inviting salt water pool...
The day passed with chatting around the tables and quick swims and a strange game of pool cricket, which everyone seemed to enjoy. Some nice salads and bbq meat and more of my cold Jamaican beer and the afternoon lazily rolled by until the sun started to set around 8.30pm and I realised I would need to leave soon. I said goodbyes all around and hit the road, happy for a full day well spent in the sun.
The way life is supposed to Obi...

Wednesday, January 25, 2006

Australia Day


Jan 26th is Australia Day for all those who have no idea...
It will be celebrated by yours truly with a BBQ and a swim on a hot summer day of 38c in a salt water swimming pool - Ironically only 300 metres from the beach! NOICE KIMMIE!
Tell me, is it so often the case that others have a higher regard for us than we do ourselves?? What is it that others see that we, looking from the inside out seem to miss everyday when looking in the mirror each morning? Sigh...
So what else can I tell you? Russian classes start on the 4th of Febuariski!
That will so cool to figure out what the hell I am remembering from the first time I learnt Russian... The thing that brings Russian back to me the most intensely is the smell of Diesel oddly enough. When I was there the smell of it was everywhere and the temp was -30c.
I officially move into the city with my job on the 18th of February! YAY?? Not likely a happy event. Bourke Street no less...
A friend from OS is visiting in 6 weeks and while he is here I will take him sky diving, show him the sights and talk about the old times, and remember an Obi long forgotten...
Hello me, long time no see....
Obi in the mirror....
Spell checked for extra fat!

Sunday, January 22, 2006

Vote One for the DDC

Canadians, love em or pity em, they are going to the poles this week to elect a new federal government. I pity the poor devils the anguish as they stand in line at the poling booths and struggle with the decision of which box to tick, the one with the damp dish cloth, or the other 3 candidates… I say:
VOTE ‘ONE’
DAMP DISH CLOTH
And clean up Canadian politics!
Send the other 3 to the TV Show Weakest Link or better yet, “Weakest Politician!”. Mogabi is last years champion…

"You are the weakest politician, good bye! "

(Personally I would vote in a Dalek – they really do what they say!)

Obi - Da Troof Eh!

Old Friends

It has been a while since I spoke to her. I blame myself. She has been a good friend through 2 decades and I am grateful fate broought us together.

Lately though, I have had several messages from her on my answering machine and I have not replied. Very rude and unfair of me and I do not want to rely on the excuses of a life out of control or the time difference.

She makes the effort and I lately have not reciprocated. I know, I sound like a selfish cretin, and guess what? You would not be far from correct.

The catch 22 for Obi is to talk about the day to day stuff is important, but he must talk regularly for that to happen. That is the cement the builds an enduring friendship - contact and interest.

Well I definitely have one of the two!! I am interested in her life an thoughts and feelings on every topic. I always am. But the regular contact is where I have let her down.

My blog is called dishevelled assembly, but it really reflects how organised I am in my own life right now.

So I send a heart felt sincere apology and ask that next time she contact me, whether by email or phone she leave me her number and how many hours so I can call her back.
Obi says - IKI Mano Zuikitis, As Myliu Tave!

Neue Freunde

It is always refreshing to make new friends. The best is when you find someone quite randomly and strike up a conversation about everything and anything.

Making connections all around the world brings the world closer and makes you see that you are part of everything and everything is part of you...

Obi So Zen!

Tuesday, January 10, 2006

Bone Weary.

I am spewing that I missed the whole comedy Hamburger night. I got the offer. I was gonna go and I missed the whole damn thing! Was I abducted by aliens? Was I trapped in the fridge reaching for the pickles at the back? Was I even abducted by the CIA??!
Nope!
Just a bone head and forgot. I spent the arvo with my nieces. I see them so seldom, still no excuse! I didn’t have to start work until 1pm!

I am in an uncomfortable place at present, I feel like I am wearing a nylon jumpsuit in a sauna and the colours are running! I really have to get my chi together!

Too many things going on at present The Telstra situation has escalated – now it seems I owe $9500 Amazing! I have more goddamn bills than a flock of fuckin ducks!

My support shoulder is doing its good work in another land, but all I got in exchange was a goat and a gold fish… I miss that shoulder; it was my best leaning arm! Oh well I know it is appreciated. Taking more outta me than I expected. Not in a bad way but I seem to have much more invested than I thought. Its hard to stay objective and balanced on the tightrope o' life when your got no otherhand to put the umbrella... "...seeend iiin the clooowns... don't worry. I'm heeeere... " DOH!

Stumbling health-wise too – My back is giving up on me can barely stand up straight and I need a few blood tests - to once and fall all prove I am the father of Princess Mary’s baby… aaaand to see what is exhausting me; likely H5N1 – yes! Half a British postcode and no sleep in a week is making me feel crap!

Any suggestions? “Is there a Travel Agent in the house??”

Listening to ‘Church Of Al Green’ at the moment… soothing this jittery demeanor.

Well if I get any worse I will let all 3 of you that read this page know…

Some critique from the larger than life literary legend would be appreciated on the friction fiction.

Obi - haaave!

Saturday, January 07, 2006

Friction Fiction Part 2

James had been my colleague at the newspaper with we were both fresh faced cadets keen to use the written word as ours sword and battle against the whole world and bring the colour of truth to the black and the white of the daily paper.

But James was a little smarter than I was, actually a lot more diplomatic. And since he in fact took other peoples feelings into consideration before he spoke, he gave himself the chance to actually be liked by our fellow workers.

I on the other hand, from almost day one, deftly ran rough shod over other peoples ideas thoughts and feelings with almost clock work precision. Hence the reason he was promoted to the police beat and I was relegated to the classifieds, doing what I strangely came to be far too good at. Writing obituaries and phrasing the achievements of a lifetime into a bitter sweet paragraph of bold face and italic type.

This suited me for the first five years and slowly, invisibly my mind switched off and I ran on a sort of automatic pilot. Until one night out with James he uncharacteristically blew up into a rage at me for some cruel thing I had said in an attempt to be glib about the writing style of one journalist we both knew.

“For fuck’s sake martin!” he exploded, “At least Billy DOES actually make an effort to do better and find a new and better way to get the story across to the reader. He tries!”

What the hell do you do with your degrees??!” he asked then answered himself, “bloody nothing at all!” you pour on the syrup and write bitter sweet lamentations for dead politicians and 90 year old war heroes.”

At the time I was 3 parts drunk and numb from the alcohol, but still the words cut straight through and stung me. I was shocked then amused that James had broken out of his well groomed diplomacy and let loose the guns of disappointment on me. Still this did not take the sting away, in the following weeks and months the sting burned deeper into my skin and made me think that maybe he was right. Maybe I had taken the easy road and put my mind to sleep and sold out to laziness.

That spring I took annual leave, much to the relief of my boss. I decided to take a trip back home to see my mother. She was pleased to see me since it was rare that she heard from me or I called her back. Once back in my own room I sifted through the museum my mother had made of the room and looked through all the things I had written about at high school then university. The style through the years changed from rough and vague to sometimes focused and engaging and I read the articles and exposes I did for the university review and local papers. But the element that slowly took the burn away was the theme running through the words in each line I had written was the passion I felt to really say what needed to be said about the injustice of the issue at hand. My sword was sharp and ran black with ink as I slayed the blank pages making them scream out what I needed to say.

To be continued…

Tuesday, January 03, 2006

Friction Fiction

Ideas for this created from songs I love and a few lyrics thrown in to the mix
Life. Most people live it; all I seem to do is push against the Prick! My hopes, I push them up and they always fall down I thought. I scratched absently at the stubble 3 daze had brought me this week. I had taken so many wrong turns lately I thought. First the poor choice of words at the funeral, then the apathetic attempt at a eulogy. James deserves better than this! Better than me. I should be ashamed and embarrassed but nothing has flushed by cheeks in longer than I can recall. I just sat there at the bar numb and slumped over and staring at the pictures in the newspaper.

The cars rush by the door as it opened and shut again. I heard the rain spitting against the window. Jane pulled up a barstool next me.

“Martini Johnny.”, she said absently.
“…sure Jane.” Johnny replied.

Jane turned to me and wiped the raindrops off her vinyl fur collared coat. I smelt her perfume first, and images of awkward high school dances and too much effort filled my mind.

“People are confusing.” She began, “When they get what they want, they just throw it in the corner”.
It’s true, I thought, they can do such ugly things in the name of pride.

“I know.” I agreed, “I know that a fragile trust can be torn to pieces by a word. But you know what they say”, I paused, “No pain no gain.”

What I had said surprised even me. I winced at how much it said about me, how shallow I was, I looked away from her into the coffee spoon and saw the bright overcast day thru the window reflected in it and mused sadly.

In the sea of thoughts and images that washed over me when I felt too weak to keep them from my minds eye. I thought that I was drowning in all the regretful and ignorant things I had said and done through the years, the pain and loss I held tightly. I felt so washed out and as gray as the sky in the spoon.

“I must be some use to somebody.” she said then clarified, “I mean, there must be a reason for me… Right?”

I looked back at her my eyes so full of words and sad love; put my hand on hers, “Yes Luvee. You mean the world and more to me.”

Her eyes widened as she looked at me then frowned, “I am not buying you a drink!” she stated flatly.

“Not looking for one, just saying what I feel.” I replied.

“Awh that’s nice Martin. She said warmly. “Okay one drink then, on me.”

“No no” I said clumsily, “I am not drinking, not today.”

“Ooh, there must be something beyond the standard maudlin.” she inquired. Almost excited by the precise string of words she had never heard me say. “…do tell what has afflicted you so.”

“I motioned to Johnny who was just within earshot at the other end of the bar. “Another coffee, black and two.”

“Coming up.” he replied”

I ran my fingers through my hair to try to find the words to start with, after a short pause none came. I sighed and resumed the slumped pose I had perfected over the last 3 hours. Picked up the spoon and circled it around the rim of the cold coffee in front of me.

“Newt’s funeral was today and I fucked it.” I confessed.

“…fucked it?” she echoed quizzically.

“yup,” I sighed. “Fucked it bad. All I could see was the looks on his mum’s and sister’s faces when I just opened my mouth and let the words fall out…” I paused. “Yep,” I confirmed, “really fucked that right up.”

“Can’t have been that bad Jane said. “Could it?”

Call Melinda, she was there, she’ll tell you. I just wanted to die right there. Swap me for him in the casket behind me and call it even.”

She chastised me “Oh come on now Martin, you are always good with words and have a good way of saying all the things we all feel rather well, you are being hard on yourself.”

“I wish that was the case today Jane. I answered, “But no, I did such a disservice to my old friend. I am disgusted.”

Monday, January 02, 2006

Waiting for the wall to fall

January 6th is the beginning of Sweeps Week in the U.S.A for TV. A trial by fire so to speak. The up side of it is that I get to watch:-
Stargate SG1 Series 9, Stargate Atlantis Series 3, Battlestar Galactica Series 2 and Smallville Series 5...

Yes - other than being and introspective sourpuss I am a Sci Fi Nerd...

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