Darwin in the dry season has the best climate on earth in my unbiased opinion. This morning when I popped into Casuarina Shopping Square (to pick up my spectacles from being repaired) it was actually warmer inside the air-conditioned centre than the open air outside. Sixteen degrees or so mightn’t seem much to “southerners”, but it’s bloody freezing when you’re acclimatised to temperatures constantly in the low 30s.
Last night “B” and I went to The Groove to have dinner and catch old 70s folkie/blues singer Margret Roadknight. It must be retro season in Nightcliff, because last Friday they had another ageing folkie Glen Cardier. I happened to mention to “B” that I used to go to The Basement at Circular Quay to hear Roadknight perform way back in the 1970s. “Yes, you and Marg are both veritable repositories of the canon of western popular culture,” she replied. “Us younger people can learn so much from you”.
Then she spent the next hour berating me about my alleged tendencies towards sarcasm and condescension (which I really should work on, she thought). How is it that women manage with such effortless ease to carry off the most blatant hypocrisy with a straight face? Incidentally, here’s a photo of “B” in berating mode, but fortunately I wasn’t the target at the time. And here’s one of me blogging at “B”‘s place.
When you say she wants you to “work on” those tendencies, does she want you to become more sarcastic and condescending?
Yes James as a matter of fact I do. And Parish FUCK OFF.
Wtf?!
What is that THING caressing that man’s neck next to the vehement woman?
Do I detect a whiff of domestic unrest in the air??
..looks like the armadillo has some serious grovelling to do!
what the fuck is wtf ? Huh? be aggressive, bebe agressive
…some of us just can’t do real women, some of us would prefer any old house hold cleaner. David, I’d say it was a mop – exactly why Les felt the need to sit so close to it is, well, his own bluesy business.
Hate anything that crawls
Ken, you’re no gentleman to post picture of ladies without their spin on it.
Since I’m no gentleman either, I’ll happily comment. She looks like a bit of a termagant, yet could be intelligently sensual and thoughtfully demanding in bed.
Hey, you posted this petite pyschodrama to start with.
Nab, where is your woman?
I love it when a blog posts an item and a comment stream that could happen nowhere else.
There’s something truly tropical about this.
– are you talking, like, the, ah, ‘essence’ of the medium. .. man?
Essence/existance – we’re doing The Maids – Genet is so attractive! and I’m puddling around in the relevant philosophies.
But back to the blog
It’s road rage David. It reminds me of those people who vent their disapproval through double panes of glass, silenced, in passing, entirely self -contained. Me? when I’m in a confident frame of mind, – that is, when the manic depression is manic there’s no satisfaction like a fiesty head to head interaction. Road rage and blog cheek are a gratuitous luxury spice.
I feel like Martha – quite often actually,
‘encourage me, encourage me’ – Albee
“Nab, where is your woman?”
jen, aren’t you making some assumptions here about my sexuality, gender and species?
am I wrong? If so please enlighten, or might that be inappropriate? I do respect limits – in fact before Parish came along and began exploding my personal and very private self all over his blog, I ONLY had limits – I do wish there was an html tag card I could insert in my memory to dispose of the limitations I have as far as expressing emphasis in comment boxes is concerned. I would relish the thought of being a little bit robot. What about you? Q1 are you ‘flesh and blood sir’
Q2 are you Sir? – read in reverse
if it pleases you to do so.
Glen Cardier??? haven’t seen him in years – last saw him in the Canberra Theatre (of all places) in the early 70’s and I still occasionally wail out the curmudgeonly strident verses of “Oh Dear St Peter” late at night when it’s time for the revellers to leave…