Hot Enough For Ya?

"Turkey buzzards drifted in a milky sky. The metallic din of crickets made the heat seem worse. Banana leaves hung in limp ribbons. There was no wind."

Bruce Chatwin from his novella, The Viceroy of Ouidah.

Dilemmas

Dilemmas are insects.
I'd spray them but
I kinda like the buzz.

The 2006 Biennial Bugger All Going On Here This Week Festival of Melbourne

Mission Statement
To provide bugger all infrastructure, amenities of social and educational relevance to clients from Melbourne's inner and outer communities.

Curated by Paul Grabowsky, Rachel Griffiths and Franco Cozzo, it's a celebration of our city with DJ's, street theatre, buskers™, coffee, street art, cold architecture, underrepresented world music, dagwood dogs, fully ticketed football, dirty needles, P Plates, star fruit, fresh bread, slow caravans, knackwurst, high fringed dark haired ACMI goers, toenails, bullets, nice shoes, local bands, public toilets, sandblasted graffiti, beggars who need a couple of bucks to see their niece in Frankston, remote controls, Phil Cleary, security staff, baklava, camera crews, brochures, IKEA, outreach, digital cameras, scarves of all types, cookbooks, sub woofers in the boots of Toyotas, heroin, sachel bags, health workers, stencil art, strong coffee, ragged tiles, ragu, pools hanging over back lanes, yesterday's washing, SMS massaging, landslides, bicycles, gargoyles, The Johns (Thwaites and So), Port Melbourne supporters, the BLF, jus, spanakopita, feral cats, poker machines, torn gig posters and so many more events which will make this festival the biggest and best in the earth's history.

Memoirs Of An Admin Guru

Somewhere there's a place for us. Somewhere there's a place for us.
She wanted so much to get that job in the office. ADMINISTRATIVE GURU read the advertisement. The perfect job.

I wish to apply for the administrative guru position as advertised in The Age on Saturday June 12.
It was no longer enough to be merely an administrative wiz or an administrative expert. She had to upsize her talents. The young lady had to become the ADMINISTRATIVE GURU!
It was going to be tough to work up to the prerequisite 80 words a minute. She would practice at night. Every night by typing along with her favorite records.

Charlie I'm pregnant. Living on Ninth Street. Above a dirty bookstore.
The first record she took dictation from was Blue Valentine by Tom Waits, the record which reminded her of Christmas, and the scraggly boy she met on her 17th birthday.
She breezed through the first two songs but Christmas Card From Hooker in Minneapolis smacked her chair squared, arse. No problem with the speed but she couldn't spell Minneapolis.. This caused her to stumble and miss the first couple of lines. Charlie I'm pregnant was easy, she knew that that well but from then on it would be difficult.
She would never be a administrative guru.
No.
The highly organized applicant began to listen to the words.

Charlie I'm broke.
This song is a real story. I can't remember this one. Sidetracked, these thoughts are certainly not work related. Stick with the process girl. This is the mistake of the expert or even the wiz but the Administrative Guru would never fall for an easy ploy like a soppy ballad with a punchline.
The wizard was becoming the guru.

$29 (and an alligator purse) was easy. She could decipher Waits' grumblings because she was a true professional. She was a new member of Tom's band.
And ladies and gentlemen, on the keys.... The guru!
Play it again Guru! Yeah, how 'bout that band!

Wooshin' down with snooze powder, waiting for a ditch.
Hard lyrics to take down but it's The Guru we're talkin' about. She's amazing. Hire her. She can do no wrong!
Then came the saddest song in the world, Kentucky Avenue.

Eddie Grace's buick with four bullets in the sky….
Oh no.

Canadian Italian George, The Local Tells Me She's Never Seen His Eyes

See that chick over there? She's one of the hottest chicks in Port Melbourne, the bitch.

I was talking to another chick who I had already been with, you know I was finished with her, and that bitch over there with the dog comes right up to me and kisses me on the cheek. Next time I see her I'm here with my Dad, fishing and she pretends not to know me.

I know her yeah, I know her. I remember all of them by their dogs. I know their dogs better than they do.

Now the dirty bitch is walking over there with a guy. Should I go over to her? Maybe she won't recognise me because I don't have my sunglasses on.

She's never seen my eyes.

Yeah, I'm going over there. The schmuck she's with won't have a clue what's going on. I'll come back and tell you what happens. I'll wave if there's a chance of getting her number. Dirty bitch, I bet she wants it.

Without Doubt

Without doubt,
A headache won't
Celebrate its leaving.
Neither does a heartache
Celebrate the evening.

Another Quote By Charles Mingus

"I am Charles Mingus. half black man, yellow man - half yellow- not even yellow, nor white enough to pass for nothing but black and not too light enough to be called white. I claim that I am a Negro. I am Charles Mingus- to me I am nothing. I am Charles Mingus, a famed jazz musician but not famed enough to make a living in society, that is in America, my home. I cannot even support my family, honestly that is from the fame that I gain to the right of being a Negro musician.

I am a human being born in Indian territory conquered by white skins or invisible skins, transparent skins, people who killed and robbed to inherit the earth for themselves and their children.

Charles Mingus is a musician, a mongrel musician, who plays beautiful, who plays ugly, who plays lovely, who plays masculine, who plays feminine, who plays music, who plays all sounds, loud, soft, unheard sounds, sounds, sounds, sounds."

Again from his autobiography, Beneath The Underdog.

A Quote By Charles Mingus

"I never realised there were so many places to go and yet so few places to stop and relax."

Charles Mingus from his 1971 autobiography, Beneath The Underdog.