Budmo!

Time for me to fess up. I am not a big drinker. I like to be in control.

A few nights ago I was not in control and shit happened. Lots of naughty but cool shit. I think I need to drink more often.

A few posts back I mentioned a drinking and dancing session with some Polish and Ukrainian people. It was good fun, it was mostly under control and I came to learn that a girl there I liked the look of was actually married to a guy I did not like the look of.

Such is life.

The problem was that there seemed to be a little spark. There were times when we seemed to lock eyes across a room for just a little too long and yet when we spoke, the conversation was just a little too awkward for no good reason.

I thought I was imagining all this. Hell, she is married - to a grumpy, unhappy looking person, but married all the same. I was thinking I had been single a little too long and was starting to read more into situations than was warranted.

So here I am again a few weeks later at another event and there they are. The same couple. The same grumpy dude and the same vibrant, attractive Ukrainian girl. After a few days It was getting obvious. We just both always seemed to know where in a room the other was.

Fast forward to yet another end of event party with large amounts of alcohol to be consumed. Beer, sake and shots of mysterious liqueurs from all corners of the globe mixed with huge amounts of bullshit being talked. Then there she was. Alone.

She slid through the room like a shark and dropped down onto an already crowed couch beside me, almost ejecting another person from the other end. As we made small talk in the crowded room she lent in closer, the eye contact was intense.

Her husband was sleeping, "He does not party, as you know. I hoped you would be here." she said.

Time slid by, the room slowly spun under the influence of the mixed poisons. There were too many bodies crammed into a hotel room made for two so we escaped into the hall way. It was not much better. There were people everywhere but we had a little more room to talk without too many ears.

"I feel like you understand me, I could talk in Russian and you would know what I mean."

She was gently squeezing my pinkie finger. It was an intimate touch and loaded with intent despite the subtlety.

"You are married, this is going in a really bad direction isn't it?"

"I am not happy, that is bad, if not worse?"

Fuck it I thought. I have had a conscious for too long. People make choices and I can't be held responsible for what I know or don't know. She is stunning, her eyes are like deep and mysterious pools of dark water and in that moment I make my choice.

"Is it the drink or is this more?" she asked.

"The drink plays a part but we have been arching like a short circuit for weeks." I said.

"Yes, I felt it also. I smile when I see you. Lets walk, no?"

We made our exit to the stairwell. It was well into the morning and the party was thinning. As we walked down the stairs her hand reached out for me. I squeezed her hand softly and it bought her to a stop. I took one more step down so we were eye to eye.

There was no hesitation, we leaned in together and kissed deeply. Our hands pulled our bodies together and we embraced tightly before she gently pushed me back.

Looking back up the stairwell, her eyes were wide with excitement, her cheeks were flushed and breathing was short.

"What am I doing? How do you do this to me? What if we are found? Kiss me again."

So I did and it was great. It was forbidden fruit and for one moment only. There was no sex but it was every bit as intense and the connection as strong.

It was the answer to the question of what if the time and place were different, would it be as good as it looked from afar? The answer was a resounding yes it just might be.

Will we ever meet again? maybe in a year or so. Who knows. All I know is that I have a warm memory of her eyes and the feeling of her lips on mine that will stay with me for a long time. I feel alive and I have no regrets.

Cops are tops.

I live on a busy road. On any given day there is a metric tonne of traffic flowing past and while I sure would not want to have small kids zipping around here on bikes, I can live with the nose.

What I am struggling with are the pricks that chuck rubbish out of their cars as they drive along. Nearly every day when collecting the mail I will pick up various drink bottles, fucking MacDonalds wrappers and other assorted rubbish deposited on the verge.

Yesterday I was mowing said verge and picking up yet more crap before it got pulped in the mower. As I stood there with another handful of bottles a passenger in a car driving past tried to collect me with his donation of a MacDonalds drink cup. He missed me but put the container square in the middle of the grass with a cheer and a wave of his hand.

My first reaction was to throw something at the fucker but he was doing about 60km/h and it was all a bit futile. Then I laughed. Indeed I laughed so hard I nearly pissed myself.

A few cars behind him was a copper. As they accelerated past me the lights came on and the female officer in the passenger seat gave me a big grin and a thumbs up. The road has bit of a bend in it and I did not get to see them tag him but I went back to my mowing knowing that there was good chance his day was not going to be as good as mine.

About 40 minutes later the cops pulled up in the drive way for a chat.

They wanted to know if I wanted to take it any further, file a complaint or something because the litter was thrown towards me and at some speed. I asked them how far it had gone already.

The female officer (Cute one too!) giggled and got a dirty look from the obviously more superior and straight bloke.

It turned out that the driver was driving while disqualified. Thanks to his passenger he got a free ride to the police station and now had a court date as well as a fine for littering to deal with. I figured that was funny enough to leave it at that.

It made my day.

Go the toe.

There is nothing sexier than a pair of pants with something to say.

I am not sure if it was an early exposure to a Jane Fonda aerobics video or just growing up in the 80's where lycra and leg warmers were the go but I have been warped into an appreciation of the mumble pants and that much maligned camel toe.

For years, guys who were growers rather than showers have been resorting to the old sock in the jocks. Even most girls seem to have tried the chicken fillets to increase the boobage at some point but advertising the clam has until now been purely the pleasure of fashion victims and dependant on the ability of their snatch to gobble the cloth.

Until now.

I found this little ad that should bring a blush to any camel toe loving guy or gal.

I think I will apply to be a distributor. What do you think? Will it sell?


I think it is time to head on down to Jacksons on George to get myself a Cougar with a Cougar.

Cultural observations

I consider myself a pretty lucky guy.

I get to travel a fair bit and while it is technically work, it is really play on a grand scale.

As I type this I am sitting in a funy little internet cafe booth in Japan. The booth is about 9 feet long by 3 feet wide and has the generic Dell computer, a TV and a funny little chair that has no legs. I am sitting on the floor in my socks as is the custom.

I love Japan. It is a crazy place full of contradicion. History battling with technology, youth fighting against tradition.

While I don't speak Japanese, like many others it is a language under seige to the advance of English. Every time I come here it becomes more apparent. Even cha has beome tea. One word at a time they are loosing one of the things that makes them so different. It makes me sad but they do not see it. They are too close.

Tonight I am drunk blogging. The event I have been at is over and number of us have hit a club to have a boogie, have some Japanese water and laugh about the week passed. I am currently trying to sober up a little before going home to pack for the flight back to OZ in the morning.

The thought about language came up because the people I was hanging out with were Japanese, Polish, Hungarian and Ukranian. English was the common language between us other than pointing, waving and laughing. I wish I had a tallent for languages...

Even english is a problem right now so I think I will leave it at that. Too much sake has made my fingers and brain numb.